


Charmed

by MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Prince Harry Styles, Violence, and sassy, harry is a prince, he has glowing eyes, he is also sad, idk if there will be smut, lol, louis is magical, sort of a slow burning fic, the boys are military, tune in for more tags in the future, zayn is a commander
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-04-26 12:58:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 28,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5005687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh/pseuds/MadameStylinsonoftheNoueh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is rumored that at the beginning of the world, god created beings to watch over the people of Earth. These superhumans became known as Guardians. No one has seen a Guardian for the past seventeen hundred years. People slowly began to lose hope in ever finding them as the years passed. Now, they are merely myth, a story told around the fire late at night. </p>
<p>Commander Zayn Malik didn't believe that the Guardians had ever existed. He had written them off as simple stories created by feeble minds in need of hope. He has been sent on a quest to find this mythical creature, though he did not believe he would ever find it. But he would soon come face-to-face with the truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Commander

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Typosmyown](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Typosmyown/gifts).



> I hope you all enjoy this! It took me a really long time (like, a year) to figure out where I wanted to go with this and to write this first part, so I don't know how long it will take to get the next part out. I promise I will work really hard on it to get it done though.
> 
> Gifted to Typosmyown because they have been so wonderful to me for however long we have known eachother (lol i cant remember how long it's been). I still have no idea how we managed to bond over the fact that I couldn't understand your fic simply because I was reading it at 1am. It's been great.

“Your Highness, I am only going to ask once more. Do you have the Guardian?” Zayn asked, trying not to let his frustration with the king of Dandrin overpower him.

The king laughed, “Commander Malik, men of our status know that such a creature does not exist! ‘Tis merely a myth, a legend. Surely you do not seek out the centerpiece of a child’s fairytale?”

Zayn grunted. “It is true that I don’t believe in fairytales, king, but the look in your eyes tells me this is no fairytale. Since you refuse to give me what I ask, I shall be forced to change tactics.” He turned to his warriors, directing his words to his second in command, “Josh, fetch me the child.”

The man nodded and went to where all of the royals had been gathered. He grabbed the king’s young son and dragged him by the arm to the commander.

Zayn took the lad and pressed a dagger to his neck as he knelt down to the boy’s level from behind. The king shouted in protest, and the queen shrieked in fear for her young child.

“Now, Your Highness, if you value the life of your son, you will hand over this Guardian, or whatever creature it is. I know it exists, and I know you have it.”

The king sighed in exasperation and turned to the closest guard. “Fetch him, quickly now. Bring a few others to assist you.” The guard left along with a few of his men and the king looked at Zayn again. “Are you satisfied?”

“Quite,” the commander nodded in approval. “Once they return, you may have your son back.” He removed the blade from the prince’s throat but kept a tight grip on him as he stood.

They waited for the guards’ return in silence. After some time had passed, Zayn gazed at the king, eyebrow raised in question.

The king cleared his throat nervously as he looked down into the hall the guards had disappeared into. “The, erm, creature -as you put it- is quite strong and does not take kindly to manhandling, Commander Malik. It may be a few moments more.”

Just as Zayn began to contemplate different methods of punishment for the king's deceit, the sound of a struggle in the hall reached his ears. The rattling of chains mixed with the scuffle of boots and grunts of soldiers pierced the silence.

The guards entered the room, dragging along what appeared to be a petite young man. He had thick chains around both his ankles and clenched wrists along with a cloth bag, that served as a hood, over his head. His small body was littered with bruises and his clothes were dirty and ragged.

The men handling the lad looked almost worse for wear. Their previous stoic manner had been shattered; now they were disheveled and wide-eyed. The bound lad fought against their grips as they pulled him into the room and stopped near the commander and his soldiers.

“Is this really him?” Zayn asked with a raised eyebrow, drawing the dagger close to the prince’s neck again.

“Yes!” the king cried. “Check for yourself if you don’t believe me!” He gestured towards the chained man as he spoke.

Zayn released the small boy, who ran to his father in fear, as he approached the being. He gripped the edge of the hood and quickly pulled it off the man’s head. He was met by an unexpected sight.

The man -no, younger, the lad- had Adonis-like features:from his sharp cheekbones, small nose, thin lips that held a gag between them and -the most shocking- his eyes. The irises were blue and literally glowing, while his pupils were a greyish color. _If there was anything that could be close to being a Guardian,_ Zayn reasoned, _this was surely it._

The creature's strange eyes gazed deep into Zayn’s, seeming to go straight into his soul. Rather than trying to understand those depths that studied his so intently, Zayn did what he did best; he pushed back all of his thoughts and focused on being the commander that he was.

Zayn turned back to the king. “We will be on our way, then.”

With a mock bow and a flourish of his cape, the young commander turned to leave. “Fetch the lad, we’re leaving,” Zayn spoke as he strode past his men and out the door, his new prize dragged along behind him.

 

\--

 

That night, the group camped outside the city limits. Many of the fires set during the raid still burned, illuminating the night.

As of yet, Zayn had not attempted any interactions with the creature he had taken hold of. The lad’s eyes still haunted his mind, and he was ill-prepared to encounter them again.

“Commander Malik!” a voice called him out of his thoughts. The leader turned his head to see Niall Horan, one of his most trusted men, approaching in quick strides.

“What is it, Horan?”

“You might want to see this, sir.” The lad pointed in the direction of a campfire a few tents away, where a handful of warriors were keeping an eye on their strange new ward.

Zayn immediately rose and followed the Irishman. The commander was surprised by what he found when he arrived.

The men were watching in a mix of awe and terror as the hooded lad worked his strange magic. He was sat cross-legged, calmly snapping his fingers; one snap extinguishing the flame of the fire, the next bringing it back to life.

Zayn was impressed. As if the creature knew he was standing there, his head slowly turned as if to look at him through the black hood. His fingers snapped again as he stared at the commander, and this time the fire roared as it blazed even bigger.

The men yelled and jumped back in fright at the display. The lad continued to stare at Zayn as the commander stepped towards him slowly.

Finally, Zayn came to a stop in front of him. Compelled, the young commander found himself removing the hood to peer into those mysterious blue and grey eyes that glowed even brighter in the surrounding darkness.

Pulling himself out of his reverie, Zayn reached out and removed the gag from the boy’s lips. “Speak, witch!”

The lad smirked, “What is it you wish for me to say? Though, I can assure you, I am no witch.” His hauntingly melodic voice rang through the stillness of the night.

“What are you playing at here, with these games? If you are trying to escape, it won’t work.” Zayn bit out.

“I could ask you the same question, Commander Malik. What are you doing?”

“I am on a mission,” Zayn found himself answering. “To find a Guardian. Is that what you are?”

The lad’s smile grew even wider, if that was possible. “You tell me, Zayn.”

Anger raged through the man at the informality. Who did this creature think he was to address a commander as such? The frustration surged in his body, and his arm reached out and he hit the lad in the face. Hard.

The boy tumbled to the ground from his seat and as he rolled onto his back, he laughed. “You really think hurting me will do anything?” His eyes met Zayn’s. “You already know the answer in your mind, Malik, you don’t need my help.”

Zayn knew he was right, he did. He gave a swift kick to the Guardian’s side -satisfied at the grunt that he received- before he strode away in contempt. The others could take care of their charge for the night. He had things to do.

 

\--

 

Zayn awoke with a start in the middle of the night to a small rustle in his tent. His hand automatically reached for the dagger underneath his pillow, fingers wrapping around the handle.

He squinted his eyes open to peer into the inky blackness, searching for the intruder. When no immediate danger presented itself, the commander sat up and rubbed his face, exhausted.

“Hello.”

Zayn jumped, instinctively raising the dagger into a throwing position, aimed directly at the owner of the voice. Two glowing blue eyes peered at him from the darkness.

Once Zayn’s eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, he realized that the Guardian was sat cross-legged on the floor of his tent, watching him. He lowered his weapon to his side.

“How did you get in here?” The raven-haired man asked, noticing the lack of chains that had previously adorned the lad’s body.

“You left rather abruptly,” the brunet lad frowned, ignoring the commander’s question. “We never got to finish our lovely conversation.”

Before Zayn could answer, the flap to the tent flew open and Liam Payne, another of Zayn’s men hurried inside. “Sir! The creature has escaped!”

“Oh dear,” the blue-eyed lad tutted from his seat on the floor. “What ever are we going to do?” He smirked at the other two.

Liam’s eyes darted back and forth from the commander to the creature and back. “B-but..,” he stuttered, eyes wide.

“It’s quite alright, Payne. I’ve got this under control,” Zayn dismissed the lad with a wave of his hand.

The lad nodded, “I’ll just wait outside, sir.”

Once the shocked guard had left, Zayn turned back to the lad at his feet. “How did you escape my guards?”

The blue-eyed male snorted, “It was really quite simple. They sleep very deeply. And that Niall kid snores like a mule.” He chuckled, but then frowned. “It’s awfully dark in here.”

Before Zayn could reach for a lantern to light, the lad cupped his hands together and blew into them. When his fingers unclasped, a little ball of blue light emerged, floating in the air and lighting up the entire room.

The Guardian grinned, “Much better. Now, where were we?”

Zayn swallowed hard, “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

The blue-eyed boy stood slowly, the smirk still covering his face. The blue ball of light followed him up from the floor as he rose, illuminating his face in the darkness. The bright blue of the lad’s irises once again mesmerized Zayn as he gazed into them.

The commander stood stock-still as the Guardian approached him so that they stood toe-to-toe. “Commander Malik,” the creature breathed into his ear sensually, his warm breath hitting his neck and causing the man’s own breathing to hitch slightly. “I think that we ought to get to know each other a bit better, don’t you?”

As the smaller man spoke, he gently pressed the Commander backwards until his legs collided with the makeshift bed sat at the other end of the tent. With another small push, Zayn was seated on the bed with the Guardian above him, still staring into the enchanting blue depths.

The commander knew that something was wrong, he just couldn’t figure out what. With the Guardian’s eyes locked on his, the only thing that he could think was blue, blue, beautiful blue. Even those thoughts slowly drifted away until nothing was left except for this fantastic desire, no, need, inside of him that kept growing.

Suddenly, they were disturbed as a gasp filled the silence. Zayn blinked and realized that Liam was once again standing in the entry to the tent, eyes focused on something near his head. “Look out, sir!”

Zayn shifted his head to see that the creature above him had managed to take his dagger and was holding it in a position near his neck, poised to stab. Before the Guardian could get away, Zayn gripped the wrist of the hand wielding the knife and pulled it away from his neck sharply. The quick movement caused the object to fly out of the lad’s hand and skid far enough away that the Guardian could not reach it.

“Liam! Restrain him.” The guard quickly approached and took hold of the blue-eyed lad, easily batting away any attacks by the creature. Before he dragged the lad out again, Zayn stopped him. “Wait.”

Zayn turned and strode towards a pack sat in the far corner of the tent. He rummaged around inside of it before pulling out what he had been looking for. Strange-looking shackles hung from his hands as he approached the two males. “I thought Harry was crazy for giving me these, but he might just be right.”

He grabbed one of the Guardian’s wrists and clasped one of the bracelets around his wrist tightly. Pleased with the wince he received from the man, he did the same to the other. With the click of the second shackle, the ball of light in the tent disappeared. The creature’s eyes widened as Zayn grinned.

“What have you done to me?!”

Instead of answering, the commander turned back to Liam. “You may go, we will be fine here.”

Without a word, the soldier nodded and left, the tent flap swishing behind him.

“I’ve charmed you.”

The creature looked up from his bound hands. “What?”

Zayn turned to look at him. “The shackles are charmed to block your powers. A friend gave them to me in hopes that they would work. He was right.”

The lad scoffed, “So now what? Am I to be your slave?”

Zayn smiled, “No. I do agree with what you said earlier, however. It would be nice to get to know you a bit better. What is your name?”

The blue-eyed boy merely glared at him. “Why should I tell you? You did this to me!” he spat, holding up his shackled wrists.

“Fine, don’t tell me. If the legends are true, you already know all about me, don’t you? I don’t need to introduce myself.”

Silence filled the air.

“My name’s Louis.”

 

\--

 

_Louis_

Zayn’s thoughts fell to the lad as he lay in the darkness of the tent, unable to sleep. He could hear Louis’ even breaths as he slept on the floor near the makeshift bed.

Zayn had refused to return the Guardian to the guards’ care after his little escape, instead choosing to tie the shackles to the edge of his bed with a bit of rope he had found. Louis had quickly fallen asleep in the darkness and Zayn was left to himself.

_Louis_

Zayn wondered about the lad. How old was he? He looked young, but Guardians are supposed to live for hundreds of years without much aging, so in theory he could be extremely old. What had he seen in all those years? How had he been captured by the king of Dandrin, and for how long?

He shook his head, trying to rid it of his thoughts. Sleep. Sleep was his priority, not the Guardian with glowing eyes that slept not two feet away.

After another minute of just lying awake, the commander acknowledged that he would not be getting more sleep that night and sat up. He ran a hand through his mussed hair before getting out of bed, careful not to step on the boy on the floor.

_Louis. Louis is on the floor._

Zayn ignored his thoughts as he pulled a shirt on and adjusted his trousers. He stepped out of the tent into the night air, where the camp fires made the dark less noticeable.

Many of his men were asleep on the grounds around the fires, while some still conversed in hushed tones. In the distance, men on lookout could be spotted guarding the camp’s perimeter.

The commander made his way to the part of the perimeter where he knew Josh was guarding. Josh was Zayn’s second in command and also his confidant when they went on missions. Besides Harry, Josh was Zayn’s closest friend and ally.

Josh gave Zayn a questioning look as he took a seat in the dirt beside him. “What brings you ‘ere this early?”

_Louis_

Zayn cleared his throat, “Couldn’t sleep.”

The soldier nodded warily before turning his gaze back to the inky blackness beyond. “I ‘eard the Guardian escaped in the middle o’ the night. Made ‘n attempt on your life.”

One of Zayn’s brows raised. “Word travels that quick ‘round here?”

Josh laughed, sparing a quick glance at the commander, “ ‘eard it from Payne ‘imself. Claims ‘e saved your life ‘n other shit.”

Zayn chuckled, shaking his head, “The bastard’s not completely wrong. That Guardian damn near killed me, got into my head somehow.”

A puzzled look crossed the soldier’s face, and he turned in his seat on the ground to get a better look at Zayn. “Eh? That creature fucking got you? Somethin’ wrong, Malik?”

Zayn shook his head, “Nah, mate, it’s nothing to worry about. It was dark and he surprised me. Payne came in to warn me and found us fighting. That's all.”

Josh looked over Zayn’s face another moment,concerned, before giving in. “Alright.” After a few quiet moments, Josh stood. “Best be off, mate. Get yourself some rest before sunup, ye look half dead.”

Zayn chuckled. “I will!”

Josh romped off to who-knows-where, leaving Zayn sitting in the dirt. Zayn soon rose and left as well, heading back for his tent and sleep.

_Louis_

He sighed.

_And Louis._

 

\--

 

Dawn eventually arrived, and with it came a multitude of new tasks for Zayn and his warriors and prisoner. The main one, to pack up camp and head back home. Once this prize was delivered and out of his care, he would be a much happier person.

_Speaking of the prisoner…_

Zayn turned from packing his few belongings to look at the Guardian. He was still asleep, his head resting on one of the arms chained to the bed above him. His hair was slightly mussed and his lips parted enough to allow silent breaths to escape.

The commander had never seen someone sleep so… restful. He was always a light sleeper, a trait acquired from his years in the military, starting as a messenger at the age of twelve. One could never be too careful when a knife could be pulled on him at any moment.

All his belongings packed, Zayn silently stepped out of the tent and out into the dim light of morning. He gazed out over the camp, watching his men as they readied for the day’s journey. A small hint of what could be called pride welled up in his chest.

Every single one of Zayn’s warriors had been hand-picked by the commander himself. They were the best of the best: strong, quick, sharp-- not to mention, loyal to the dying breath. He trusted these men with his life and had no qualms against them. Not many commanders could say the same, which was probably why Zayn was the most famous and most feared of anyone in Urthain’s Western Guard.

Satisfied with the camp’s progress, the commander walked along the front of the tent until he reached the corner post where his horse was waiting. Quickly, he saddled the horse, stroking the stallion on his flank with a fondness he never shared with anyone else. The bond between man and horse was strong, and Zayn fully believed that sometimes Misneach could read his mind. He secured his bag to Misneach’s saddle tightly, eyes watching the horizon as the sun slowly made its way higher into the sky, painting the world in its orange glow.

“Sir,” a voice spoke from behind the commander.

Zayn turned to see Liam standing at attention. “Payne? What is it?”

“What do you wish for us to do with the Guardian, sir?”

“How do you mean?”

“He… he’s still asleep in your tent, sir.”

_Right_ , Zayn remembered. “Of course. Wake him and bring him to me. I’ll figure out what to do with him while you load the tent onto the cart with the rest.”

The officer nodded, bowing his head in respect before taking his leave. Zayn almost smiled.

Respect was something that he demanded from his warriors, along with their loyalty, and many of them learned that quickly. If the proper respect was not given, an example would be made of them. He had made use of this method for years, with only a handful of lessons needed, usually for the new recruits. The stories told about him in the surrounding villages -most of them not even close to the truth- usually sufficed to make his new warriors know better than to try anything. If a leader did not have the respect of his soldiers, then he had nothing.

Zayn continued to ready himself and his horse for the day’s journey as he waited for Liam to bring Louis. _The Guardian_ , he chided in his head. This was a mission, there was no reason for the two to be on a first-name basis. In a couple of weeks, the Guardian would be handed over to Urthain’s king, and hopefully Zayn would never have to deal with him again.

It was only another couple of minutes before Liam returned, this time with a second soldier and the Guardian held tightly by his upper arms between them. His clothes and hair were still rumpled from sleeping, but his face looked a bit awake, though Zayn couldn’t be sure. The naturally glowing eyes threw him off a bit.

Louis smirked at the commander as they drew closer. “I see you’re still scared of me after last night. Don’t worry, love, you’ve got me good and chained up.”

Zayn just grunted, not willing to acknowledge the Guardian’s cheeky remarks. He turned and reached into his saddlebag, pulling out a sizeable length of rope. He walked back to where the three stood. “Hold out your arms.”

Louis opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything else the two guards on either side of him grabbed hold of his forearms and raised them out towards Zayn. The raven-haired man quickly wound the rope around his wrists over top of the shackles until they were tightly bound together. He then walked back to his horse and tied the other end of the long rope to his saddle.

Zayn looked back at the other. “You may let him go now, he can’t get away.”

The Guardian watched the others walk away. “What if I steal your horse?”

“You won’t.”

“How do you know that I won’t?”

The question went unanswered as Josh rode up next to them, halting his horse with a tug on the reins and a click of the tongue. “Sir everything is ready for us to leave.”

Zayn nodded in assent, raising a leg into his stirrup and throwing his body weight up and onto his tall stallion. “Gather the men and let’s head out. Make sure they have food and water, we won’t be stopping for a long while.”

“Aye, sir.” With another two clicks of the tongue, Josh was headed back into the fray.

Zayn turned in the saddle and looked back at the Guardian. “Hope you’re ready for a lot of walking.”

Louis muttered under his breath with a scowl as Misneach began to move.

 

\--

 

Having left early in order to get a head start, they made good time. Fortunately, the weather had been good as they traveled through the countryside: no rain, and the sun shining bright in the sky.

It was barely past midday when Zayn finally brought the group to a halt, calling Josh to his side in order to consult their maps. The ground that they had covered was easy, the next part of the trip would be the hardest.

The Badlands. It was just as awful as every fairy tale claimed it to be, but ten times worse than any child could imagine. A large part of the area was pure desert, prone to bouts of extreme heat and week-long sandstorms. The rest of the Badlands were dense jungles and held various poisonous species of plants and water-borne bacteria.

But the natural elements were not the only dangers that the Badlands held. There were natives, a strange people who had adapted to their drastic environment, thriving off of the few edible plants and ferocious beasts that they hunted. There were tales of the natives killing travelers and eating them when food became scarce. The commander was not certain that these stories were true, but he would rather not put his soldiers in danger to find out.

If it were up to Zayn, he would not travel through the Badlands at all. But he had no choice. The Badlands stood between Zayn and the end of his mission, and he would see it through to the end.

“What if we take this path?”

Zayn looked down to where Josh’s finger was pointing on the map, tracing a route on the wrinkled paper. He took note of the various places the group would have to stop and camp, of the surrounding jungles teeming with dangerous life.

“Alright, it looks safe enough. We will just have to hope that a storm doesn’t come up before we reach this point.” He pointed to a canyon along their selected route.It ran in a crescent shape, and would protect the group in the case of a sandstorm. “If we can make it to that point by nightfall, we should be relatively safe.”

“Aye, sir.” Josh nodded definitively, storing the map safely in his saddle bag. “Would you like to announce, or shall I?”

“I will do it,” the commander replied. He guided Misneach to turn so that he could face his men, semi-aware of the Guardian still bound behind him. When he was sure that he had the group’s attention, he spoke, elevating his voice so that all of his warriors could hear him clearly.

“Men, prepare yourselves. For the next few days, we will be traveling through the Badlands. Stay aware of your surroundings at all times, stay hydrated, and most importantly, do not leave the group by yourselves. I do not want to lose any men on this trip.

“Josh will be taking a small group to scout for water nearby, so that everyone will have enough water.” He made eye contact with Josh, who immediately began to signal to a few of their best scouts, choosing the ones to assist him.

“The rest of you will stay here until they return. Feel free to rest, we have a long journey ahead of us.”

The men cheered, tired from the long day under the hot sun. Horses were quickly tied off to trees, and groups of five or six began to form over the grassy hillside as the men sat and relaxed with food and drink.

Zayn took Misneach over to a more secluded area, tying him under a well-shaded tree. He felt the eyes of the Guardian watching him intently as he reached into a pack tied to his saddle, pulling out a folded cloth holding part of a loaf of bread along with a couple bits of cheese and dried venison, remnants of the spoils from their raid the day before. He sat against the tree his animal companion was secured to, getting comfortable for his small feast.

“Guardian, come sit with me.” He said, not even looking up at the man, who was still standing and watching him. “There is food enough to share.”

“I am not hungry.” The Guardian made no movement towards the tree, rather standing underneath the hot sun.

“Do Guardians not eat?”

When no reply came, Commander Malik chuckled under his breath. “At least come sit in the shade. We will be traveling under this scorching sun for the next few days, and you will find yourself wishing for cover like this.”

Louis did not speak, but he did move into the shade of the tree, sitting cross-legged just inside the very edge of it.

Zayn pulled out his water flask, tossing it so that it landed in front of the lad facing him. "Here, have a drink."

The Guardian murmured a thank you, reaching out carefully with tied hands for the flask. Those entrancing blue eyes stayed on Zayn as the lad took long draws of the water. He tossed the flask back to the commander.

"The next part of the journey is going to be difficult. The Badlands are a horrible place to lead a group through."

Zayn perked up at the Guardian’s words. "What does that mean? Have you been there before?"

The Guardian was silent for a long while, just watching Zayn with his glowing gaze. "No. I've never been," he said softly. His eyes dropped to look at the ground.

Zayn opened his mouth to speak again, but he was interrupted by an approaching rider.

"Sir!"

The commander stood, making his way out from under the tree to speak with the soldier. "What is it, Mikhail?"

"We've found water, sir. Just a half hour's walk to the east."

"Good job. Make sure you and the other scouts send small groups to go at a time. Quickly now, we need to leave soon."

The rider went off to follow orders, leaving Zayn and Louis in his wake. The raven-haired man turned back to continue their earlier conversation, but the Guardian had already begun to stand.

"We should be getting ready to leave." The blue-eyed lad brushed imaginary dirt off his pants, refusing to look at the commander.

Zayn eyed him warily, but the creature was right, so he picked up his things and packed them in his saddle bag. He untied Misneach from the tree, leading his horse and captive back towards his group.

 

\--

 

By the time night fell, the group was only a mile or so out from their stopping place. Torches had been lit, making the rocky way more clear to guide their horses. Soon, they would make camp and rest for the night.

There had been no troubles in the journey so far, the surrounding plains barren and quiet, but Zayn knew better than to relax. Trouble would present itself, he was certain of it.

None of the stories that Zayn had heard about the Badlands could have prepared him for his own journey through them. The one thing he had not accounted for was the sheer beauty that the Badlands held. While the tales spoke of horrors that struck fear in the heart of every soul, all that Zayn could see were picturesque canyons and plentiful forests.

_It’s odd_ , the commander thought to himself as he carefully guided Misneach down the steep edge of a cliff, _how beautiful such a dangerous place can be_.  Inwardly, he determined to keep his wits about him. Not everything -beautiful or not- could be taken at face value.

Zayn could hear the prisoner behind him, heard every time that he stumbled over a rock or his own feet. The Guardian had traveled the entire time on foot, and -surprisingly- without the uttering of a single word. Nonetheless, the commander checked on him from time to time, just to make sure that the lad had not died or been injured. His king would not take kindly to his new prize being damaged.

“Commander.”

Zayn looked to his left to see Josh, whose face was shadowy due to the dim light that the torches cast. The man nodded his head towards the lands ahead of them, the direction that a couple of their scouts had taken to survey their path. The commander looked the way he had directed to see the distinct flame of a single torch ahead, signaling the return of one of his riders.

He raised his hand to halt the group. The crunch of rocks and dirt under the hooves of horses slowly quietened to silence as his men stilled their horses. They remained quiet and watched as one as the flickering light of the torch grew brighter and the scout drew nearer.

When the rider was about ten feet away, he stopped his horse. “Commander.” He nodded in respect. “We have scouted the areas surrounding the camp and the area itself, they are all clear and waiting, sir.”

“Good,” the commander said. “And how far are we from this place now?”

“It’s just over that ridge, sir,” the man pointed in the direction he had just come from. “About a ten minute ride.”

Dismissing the scout, Zayn’s gaze returned to his second in command. He grinned, “I am most anxious to take my seat at the fire tonight.”

“As are we all,” Josh replied, an equal smirk lighting upon his own face in understanding.

Keeping his eyes on the man, Zayn spoke to the Guardian behind him as he reached out a hand. “Jump on, Guardian.”

“Wha-”

Before the lad could even complete his question, Zayn had gripped his arm and yanked him up and onto Misneach behind himself. With a murmured “hold on” to the creature behind him, his attention returned back to Josh.

The man lifted a curious eyebrow, but said nothing more than, “First to the canyon?”

Zayn nodded, feeling the Guardian’s fists gripping onto the back of his shirt and armor. “Aye, first to the canyon.” As soon as he had finished his sentence, he spurred Misneach into a run, listening to the excited cries of his men behind him as they did the same.

It was a standard bet that the group had. Zayn had discovered it was a great mechanism to keep spirits up during even the most menial of tasks, and the men thoroughly enjoyed it. Rather than placing bets with food or labor, he instituted placing bets for stories. Sure, everyone liked receiving extra food or having someone else do their work for one night, but the thing that lifted the men’s spirits more than anything was a story.

The winner of the race would provide a story to tell around the dinner fires that night. Zayn had probably shared the most stories among the group-- Josh a close second, considering he was the only warrior in the group willing to challenge his commander on a daily basis. Not that the higher-ranking man minded, he didn’t want to win all of the time.

Zayn was determined to win tonight, however, no matter how hard Josh pushed him. The man was fighting hard, pushing his horse to his limits. But as Zayn reached the canyon’s crest, he gave Misneach one last push, knowing that the stallion could and would give him just enough to win tonight.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the very moment where Josh recognized defeat, his mount’s gait slowing to a trot as he reached the lip of the canyon.

“Well done, Malik,” he spoke as Zayn slowed Misneach, watching the man tug his reins to the left to turn his mount. “Which tale shall you grace us with tonight? Will it be of the famed Battle of Caprice, or perhaps of one of your plights with a fair maiden?”

“Nay,” Zayn replied, catching a glance behind him at the Guardian still gripping tightly to his clothes wide-eyed and breathing hard. “I think it shall be a different sort of story altogether.”

“I see,” Josh said, the same questioning look on his face as from before. “I shall have the men set up the camp and send a few riders to hunt for food.” He rode off, leaving his commander and the prisoner in his wake.

Zayn dismounted easily, turning and helping the Guardian to do the same. “Are you alright?”

The blue-eyed lad scoffed, “A little more warning would have been helpful, but I am fine.” He was still panting slightly, but otherwise looked no worse for wear.

“Be sure to catch your breath,” the commander said with a chuckle. “You’re going to need it for later tonight.”

 

\--

 

The camp was built, fires started with meat roasting on spits, the scent wafting through the tents. Bellies were eager to be filled and ears were just as eager to hear the night’s tale. Their commander never failed to give them a good story.

Zayn stood within his own tent, keeping a wary eye on the glowing eyes of the Guardian tied to the foot of his bed as he changed out of his armor and sweaty clothing. The lantern on the floor, along with the light emitted from Louis’ eyes shone against the sweat on his skin as he put on a dry shirt, tucking it into his pants and re-tying his sword within its scabbard at his side.

“I want you to tell the story tonight.”

The Guardian blinked slowly, the light within the tent dimming and then brightening again as he closed and opened his eyes. “Why?”

“You must have some fantastic stories, since you’re a Guardian. I’m sure my warriors would much rather hear something from a magical creature as opposed to a tale of battle from their commander.”

The brunet creature smirked. “Oh, so you don’t want to brag? That’s new.”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Don’t be daft, I am just tired. And also somewhat interested in the life of a Guardian. It must be quite an adventure.”

It was quiet for a long time before Louis spoke. “It is not as grand as one might imagine it to be.”

He thought on that for a bit. The commander had no reply, so he left the statement hanging, choosing rather to release the Guardian from where he was tied to the bed and pulled him by the arm out of the tent and towards the nearest fire where there was rabbit cooking. “I hope that you are hungry now. Even if Guardians don’t eat, Payne will be upset if you refuse to eat his food.”

The warriors around the fire greeted their leader enthusiastically, all of them moving from their seats to make room for him to sit. More than a few glances and some glares were directed towards the creature with glowing eyes who sat down next to him as they all began to take their places on the ground. Liam, who had been tending to the food over the fire, approached with two wooden bowls in hand. He handed one to Zayn, sending a cautious glance to the Guardian as he placed the other on the ground in front of the lad.

Zayn prepared to dig into his meal, starved after the long day in the heat, but he noticed that all of the men around the fire were still staring at the creature to his right. He sighed under his breath. “There is no reason to be concerned,” he spoke loudly, “the Guardian has been placed under a charm. There will be no fiery tricks tonight.”

His men laughed, finally turning back to their own meals and conversations. A body plopped down in the dirt beside him, stirring up a small cloud of dust. The commander knew who it was without even looking.

“I think your men are ready for their entertainment for the night,” Josh said slyly, a smirk covering his face as he picked another piece of meat out of his own bowl of food and pushed it into his mouth. The smile never left his face even as he began chewing, meaning that Zayn could easily see the food being broken up and moving around in his mouth. He forced himself not to cringe, knowing that he was easily the only man here who had learned any sort of manners having grown up within the castle gates.

The commander kept his mind on the task at hand. “You will get your story, have patience.”

As he began to eat his food, Zayn watched the men around him. He had always enjoyed just sitting and listening to their conversations -sometimes joining in himself- getting to know bits and pieces about the lives of his warriors. He knew that each of them had someone waiting for them to come home. For some, it was a spouse or a lover, and for others it was family or friends. Remembering those people helped Zayn to work harder to keep his losses low and to try to keep as many of his men safe as possible.

The jangle of chains caused the dark-haired man to look to his right. He saw the Guardian near-glaring at the bowl of food in front of him with what appeared to be disgust and disdain.

“Just eat it.” He said, causing the lad to look away from the food and at him. “It tastes much better than it looks.” To prove his cause, he picked a piece of meat out of his own bowl and placed it in his mouth, chewing carefully with a closed mouth.

The Guardian eyed him warily, but obliged, picking up his bowl of food and eating a piece. Zayn chuckled when he saw his eyes widen as he realized that it actually did taste pretty good and began to shove more pieces into his mouth quickly. “You had better slow down,” he said. “You’re going to choke and hurt yourself.”

“Shut up,” the lad said, food muffling his words slightly. “‘M hungry.”

Zayn laughed at the Guardian’s antics, but it was cut off short when he realized what he was doing. Since when was he bonding with the prisoner? First he had started calling the lad by his name in his head and now he was joking around with him. He forced the smile off of his face and looked away from the boy. He refused to let the creature get to him.

_Louis._

For some reason, the boy’s name was back in his head. He had to fight to get it out, couldn’t let his thoughts get to him the way that they had the night before. If Zayn remained objective, there would be no problems for the rest of the mission.

_Louis._

But Louis just couldn’t seem to get out of his head.

_Louis._

_God help me._

 

\--

 

The group around the fire had grown rowdy by the time Zayn managed to get his thoughts under control. The voice in his head was quiet, for now.

His men, however, were not. They had been promised a tale, and so he would give one to them, just not directly. He was still determined to get the Guardian to open up and share an amazing story with them. Zayn turned from staring into the fire to look at the Guardian seated silently beside him. Those glowing blue eyes gazed back at him -stubborn and intent on getting his way- before the man sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Fine.”

Zayn stood, yanking the lad up onto his feet to join him. The warriors in the camp automatically hushed, their full attention focused on their commander. He shouted, making sure that all could hear him clearly. “As tonight’s winner, I have chosen to nominate the Guardian as our Teller. I would that you listen well, for we might learn something from whatever wisdom he holds.”

Many of the men appeared to be frustrated, but none uttered a single word in opposition. They knew better than to challenge Zayn’s commands. When he was certain that he would not have an uprising on his hands, the commander nodded and sat back down to allow Louis to have the spot.

“This would be much better with my powers working,” the lad muttered low enough that only Zayn could hear.

The man chuckled. “Fat chance of that. After your little scheme last night, you’ll be lucky if those ever come off again.” He sneaked a quick look back at their audience before speaking again. “You had best get started before you lose their attention altogether.”

The Guardian closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in and out. He rolled his neck -almost sensually, Zayn noted- from side to side before opening his eyes again. When they did re-open, Zayn was shocked to find that they had changed their color. As opposed to the glowing blue and grey that Zayn had become somewhat used to, they were now completely a pale grey color.

The men around him gasped, whispering to each other in hushed tones at their shock. Instead of turning his head to hush them, Zayn kept his eyes on Louis, watching as the Guardian smirked at the others’ reactions. And then the lad opened his mouth, and Zayn was immediately enraptured-- swept away into the words of the story that escaped his lips.

_“From the beginning of the Earth, there was water, earth, and sky. These three elements worked in sync with each other, protecting and caring for the Earth’s inhabitants. Over time, water and sky discovered that they had fallen in love. Somewhere in the midst of caring for Earth, they had begun to care for each other as well.”_

Zayn watched in fascination as the Guardian’s eyes changed color again, this time warming into a shining gold. The color made him feel love, more than he ever had before. He could feel just how much the sky and the water loved each other, their joy, rapture, and need to have the other.

_“God was pleased for the two elements, glad that the two had found a love of their own. And so he gave each a mortal body for a time, allowing the two to enjoy themselves and the fruits of Earth. During this time water bore seven children, seven daughters borne of water and sky. For many years, the parents cared for their daughters, watching them grow into beautiful young maidens. Sadly, they could not stay on Earth forever. So water and sky entrusted their daughters to earth, begging her to care for them as if they were her own children.”_

The deep blue in Louis’ eyes caused a sadness just as deep to make its way into Zayn’s heart. It curled throughout his chest, wringing at his innards and a tear slid down his cheek. A parent’s pain at abandoning their child.

_“And earth did care for the girls as if they were her own. She taught them how to care for her soil and the vegetation that grew from it. Slowly, the daughters grew into beautiful maidens, sought after by many of the young men within Earth’s villages. Earth grew afraid, knowing that if the maidens were taken from her care, the other elements would become terribly angry and rain down their wrath upon her._

_“So earth hid the girls deep in a forest, far away from any villages. The daughters were safe there, and they grew still more beautiful day by day. But one day a hunter came into the woods, tracking a great bear. He grew lost, but the sound of the maidens singing traveled through the forest and caught his ear, leading him directly to their location. The instant the hunter saw the girls, he was struck by their beauty and decided that he wanted them for himself.”_

A tugging in Zayn’s gut accompanied the crimson red that poured into the Guardian’s eyes like wine. He knew this feeling, this utter need that could not be satisfied. _Lust_. He could almost feel himself grow hard in his pants at the strength of it, and he hoped that none of the others had noticed. The commander placed his hands over his crotch in an effort to hide it.

_“The hunter approached the daughters, but they were frightened and ran away. He followed them for days without cease, his need too great to stop for even a moment. The girls cried out to earth, begging her to help them escape the hunter. Earth, knowing that her powers were not enough to save the daughters, in turn begged God to save the girls._

_“Because he loved the girls and their parents, who did so much for his creation, God agreed to help them. He turned the maidens into doves, enabling the girls to fly and escape from the hunter. For a time, the daughters were safe from the hunter. They hid from him within the safety of the trees, and when it was safe they would fly about and sing to the people of the villages, giving praises to their Maker who had saved them from the hunter.”_

White, as bright and pure as the feathers of a young dove. Relief. It cleansed Zayn’s soul of lust and heartache, leaving behind only joy and praise.

_"Even so, it was not enough to keep the hunter at bay forever. With time, he learned how to track the daughters, even with their dove form. He trapped the girls one day, while they were singing to a little boy on the outskirts of his village. The eldest daughter, knowing that she and her sisters were in danger, chose to sacrifice herself in order to allow the other girls to escape._

_“She flew directly towards the coast, where she could see the fishermen out gathering their catch for the day, the hunter close behind her. Once she reached the water, she dove straight down into the depths, deep in her mother’s currents. The hunter, whose need was still so great, had no choice but to follow the girl, and they both met their deaths in that murky grave.”_

Zayn’s breath caught in his throat as it tightened. A purple, so dark that he could only compare it to a midnight sky void of any stars. No light, no joy, just darkness. He wanted to weep, to cry out at the sky, to scream into the inky blackness a single question: _Why?_

_“Water and sky were distraught at the death of their daughter. They both worried for the rest of their daughters, should they meet a similar fate at the hands of other greedy men. The two elements made a decision, making a request to God for his help. He easily agreed, knowing that the parents were in mourning for their child, and set it into motion._

_“The remaining daughters were transformed once more, this time into stars that were placed into the night sky where their father could watch over them for all eternity. Even now, we look up into the night and see the sisters, dancing merrily as their father keeps them safe from harm.”_

Zayn heard Louis sigh. He blinked, coming out of whatever sort of trance the story had put him into. Looking around at the others gathered around the fire, he could see that the story had had the same effect on them as it had on him. Most looked confused, some still discreetly brushing a tear from their cheek or clearing their throats from the tightness it still held.

The commander turned to look back at the Guardian. His eyes were now back to their normal glowing blue, and they were gazing up into the sky, looking at the stars he had just talked about with a sad smile on his face.

Zayn cleared his throat, “Good story. I’m pretty sure that my men are going to want you to be Teller for every night of this trip now.”

The Guardian just sighed, not taking his eyes off of the stars. “My mother used to tell me that story, when I was just a boy.”

Not sure how to reply to such a personal statement from the creature, Zayn simply nodded and turned to speak with Josh, leaving Louis to his thoughts and the sisters in the sky.

 

\--

 

The camp went back to its relatively normal state not long after that. Most of the men went back to their tents to ready themselves for sleep, while a few lingered around the low-burning fires to talk. The perimeter guards changed for the night, and all was mostly quiet.

After a short discussion with Josh over the proceedings for the next day, Zayn found himself getting ready to turn in for the night as well. He had Payne secure the Guardian back to the base of his bed before his meeting with Josh, so he only worried with checking on the night’s guards before making his way to his tent.

The commander didn’t spare a glance towards the Guardian as he pushed the flap away and entered, rather making his way to the basin of water set on top of a chest placed in the far end of the tent. He felt the Guardian’s gaze even so, watching him intently as he moved across the area. Zayn removed his shirt, splashing the water over his chest and face, wiping them off again with the shirt before he finally turned around to look at Louis.

The lad was sat cross-legged on the floor next to Zayn’s bed, his gaze steady and unblinking on the commander. It reminded Zayn of the position he had been sat in the night before, when he tried to seduce and kill him. However, he knew that Louis could attempt no such thing in his present condition of being tied up, so there must be a different reason this night.

“What is it?” he asked, impatient and slightly uncomfortable under the Guardian’s stare.

There were now two lanterns burning brightly within the tent -most likely courtesy of Liam- so the light within the tent did not falter so much when Louis blinked. “Hmmm?”

“What is it? Why are you watching me like that?” Zayn huffed.

“Why did you ask me to tell the story tonight?”Louis’ reply is simple and quiet. It inexplicably throws Zayn off guard.

“Wha- what do you mean?”

“What I mean is,” Louis’ voice slowly grew louder, becoming more forceful as he continued. “Why did you ask me to tell the story tonight? Your men would have been more than content hearing one of your self-indulgent tales of glory, so why give it up?”

“I-I was tired, I told you that-”

The Guardian’s eyes flashed with what appeared to be fury. “Everyone has a reason for doing something Zayn Malik, even if they don’t know what that reason is.”

The brown-eyed man simply gaped at the creature before him. He didn’t know why he was so dumbstruck, but something about the Guardian just compelled him to feel this way.

Louis smirked, knowing the effect that he held on the man before him. His voice was sweet and smooth with a hint of rage as he spoke. “You wanted me to tell a story because you thought that I would give something away. Some sort of information that would help you to get to know more about me, a weakness perhaps.

“But what you didn’t think of was that I would catch you, hell, you didn’t think about it at all,” Louis spat. “Calculated commander of the Western Guard, too good to get outsmarted by anyone. You probably thought that the story actually was something that my mother taught me when I was young. Well joke’s on you, Malik, I lied.”

Each of the Guardian’s words hit Zayn, hard. He hadn’t even realized until now that that was exactly what he had been doing. Getting to know the enemy, searching for weaknesses-- all things that had been ingrained into his skull from a young age. His military training had always been his strongest point, but now all of that was useless. Zayn couldn’t outsmart a Guardian, they were the wisest creatures in the world.

“But- but, I.”

“Stop sputtering, you idiot,” Louis said maliciously, tone still harsh and judgmental. “You’ve lost, accept it.”

The belittled commander swallowed, gathering his thoughts to form a sentence. “How did you change the color of your eyes during the story? You were under the charm, your powers shouldn’t have worked.”

Louis chuckled harshly. “Really? That’s what you are going to ask me about, after I just made you admit defeat?” He shrugged, “My powers are still inside of me, I just can’t focus them outward on other objects or people.”

“But how did we still go into that trance, or whatever? I felt those emotions as if they were my own.”

“It’s simple, really,” the Guardian smiled. “My eyes only affected you because you allowed them to. If you had looked away for even a second, the trance would have broken.”

Zayn nodded in understanding. “Just so you know,” he added after the two had spent a couple of minutes in silence. “I never actually admitted defeat.”

Louis growled under his breath, rolling his eyes. “You may not have outright said it, but we both know that you did. You lost, I won, give it up already.”

“Are you really that angry about the situation,” he asked, watching the lad carefully. “You said it yourself, it’s second nature to me, so you should have been expecting something of the sort. So why does it bother you?”

The Guardian sighed, shoulders slumping as all of his anger drained from him. “It’s all I have left for myself, my mind.”

Zayn sat down across from the Guardian, intrigued. “How do you mean?”

Louis scrubbed his hands over his cheeks. “I mean--” he paused, thinking. “I’ve been stuck in captivity since I was a child. I couldn’t go anywhere without a king’s approval, no freedom to move about for my own. So I learned to use my powers, strengthened them to the point where it was its own sort of freedom. They were mine to use however I pleased. Now you’ve taken even that from me.” He looked up, directly into Zayn’s eyes with his own sad ones. “All I have left is myself. If I allow you to figure me out, learn my strengths and weaknesses, my personality, my freedom will be completely gone.”

The commander watched as a single tear slid down the lad’s cheek, leaving a faint glowing blue trail behind on the tanned skin.

Anything he would have said was cut off when the flap to the tent was flung open, Josh rushing in unannounced. He was panting hard, as though he had run all the way across the camp, which Zayn expected that he most likely had since he was on guard for the night. His heart pounded harder, however, at the noises that accompanied his second’s entrance. The clashing of swords and cries of pain reached his ears-- the sounds of battle.

Josh finally caught his breath, looking up into his commander’s eyes. “We’re under attack.”

 

\--

 

In the blink of an eye Zayn was on his feet and sprinting out of the tent, hand already at his hip unsheathing his sword. Josh was not far behind, his own weapon at the ready. In the time it had taken for his second to join him, Zayn had already carefully analyzed the fight from his place in the middle of the camp.

To the left, where the canyon’s entrance lay, torchlight revealed dirtied and straggled fighters wielding clubs made of bone and lances fashioned from the bark of trees -natives of the Badlands, Zayn presumed- as they shrieked a fearsome battle cry and tried to push their way through the majority of Zayn’s forces. A few of the natives had already made their way into the camp, but they were easily picked off by five of the commander’s best marksmen who had hidden themselves within the brush lining the canyon’s crest.

Zayn was far more concerned, however, with the fight proceeding on the opposite side of the camp, where the canyon opening was smaller yet far more treacherous. There, he had a smaller force of warriors holding off the natives, but they wouldn’t hold for long. The area was prone to rocks falling from the cliffs, and that factored alongside with the dim lighting forced his men to stay on the ground they already occupied and not advance.The natives were far more reckless, it seemed, as they pushed through the opening while the rocks and larger boulders hurtled towards the ground.

He turned to Josh. “Take a group of twenty with you to the smaller opening in the canyon. Try to hold them back for as long as you can. Take a few of the archers as well, see if they can’t pick them off before they make it to the other side of that opening.” Josh nodded and quickly ran off into the fray to follow his orders.

“Zayn! Commander Malik!”

Zayn looked around, having heard the voice, but not being able to discern where it was coming from.

“Dammit- _Zayn_!”

This time the commander heard it clearly, realizing that it was Louis, who was still tied up within the tent. He lifted the flap, entering. “What is it? I need to get back out there.”

“You need to unchain me.” The Guardian’s eyes were wide as he begged, “please, do it now, before it’s too late.”

Zayn scoffed, “Did you really think I would fall for that? You’ll just sneak away while I’m too busy winning against those mongrels out there.”

“I’m serious, Malik! There’s no way that you can win this-”

The commander immediately cut him off. “Really? You think that a force of highly-trained and skilled warriors will be beat by a rowdy group of natives?” He laughed, “that’s bloody ridiculous, mate.”

“Zayn-”

“NO, LOUIS!” He sighed when Louis just gaped at him. “Look, I get it. You want your freedom. But I’ve got a job to do, which is getting you to Urthain’s king in one piece. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go do my job now.” He opened the flap to the tent to leave, turning back one last time. “Don’t worry, you’ll be safe here. Just-- stay quiet, alright?”

He finally marched his way out of the tent and towards the battle, forcing his mind to ignore Louis’ cries of ‘ _NO! Zayn, you’ll fucking DIE out there!’_.

Seeing that the forces on the left side were still holding steady, Zayn ran across the camp to where he had sent Josh. He found the warrior within the din, easily taking out one of the two opponents the man had been fighting.

The commander grinned when he heard his second in command groan loudly as he severed the other man’s head from his shoulders. “I had him!”

Zayn chuckled as he parried a blow from a club, “I know you did.” He thrust his sword into the native’s chest, yanking it back out quickly as he ducked out of the way of an incoming blow from the next Badland mongrel. “How well is this side holding?”

“We’ve lost a third of ours, along with two of the archers,” Josh shouted. “Marcus is still picking off as many as he can.” He gutted another dirty native, pushing him back off of his sword by the shoulder. “I don’t know where they are all coming from, there shouldn’t be this many. We take out ten, and another fifteen take their place. How?”

The darker-haired man didn’t have long to contemplate it, as both of them became distracted at the sound of a hideous shriek coming from the other side of their canyon opening. It was quiet for a moment before there was an answering screech, equally as terrifying as the noise before it. It was enough to stop the fighting, all of his warriors on edge. The two leaders stared at each other. _What the hell was that?_

It didn’t take long for them to find out, as two menacing feline figures made their way out of the pitch darkness and into the lit opening of the canyon. Jaguars, Zayn thought as he watched the magnificent creatures, paws with giant claws plodding across the dirt straight towards his warriors.

The sight of the jaguars somehow seemed to rally the natives, who threw themselves back into the fight with vigor. When the animals actually reached the fighting, it was an immediate bloodbath. With a single swipe of each of their powerful paws, the jaguars easily took out two of his men. It was terrifying.

Strangely, only one thing popped into Zayn’s head at that moment.

_Louis._

Louis was right. They were all going to die. His men couldn’t stand against such powerful and agile animals.

_No! Louis, you idiot. Go get him. He said that he could fix this._

Oh.

_Fucking hell._

Zayn ran across the camp and back to his tent as fast as he could, knowing that with every second he was risking more of his men’s lives. As soon as he reached the tent, he threw the flap open and charged inside.

He dropped to his knees in front of a surprised Louis, immediately untying him from the ropes. He yanked the key to the shackles from the chain around his neck, unlocking them as he spoke hurriedly. “Look, I don’t know how the hell you knew that this would happen, but my men’s lives are at stake here. You said you could fix it, now do it.”

Louis stood, rubbing at his chafed wrists. “Alright. I need you to get all of your men out of the canyon as quickly as possible. Don’t stall, don’t grab any belongings, just run.”

“Okay, yea,” Zayn said, shock still written across his face at the odd turn of events.

Louis grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing the commander to stare straight into his unnatural eyes. “Zayn, I’m serious. Get out. As quick as you can.”

Zayn blinked, “Of course.” He ran back out of the tent, first toward the right-- the battle he had just come from. He located Josh, pulling him away from the fight. “Order everyone to fall back. Meet up at the top of the canyon.”

The man gaped at him. “Wha- What do you mean, _fall back?_ Do you have a plan that I don’t know about?”

“That is the plan!” Zayn yelled, already running in the other direction.

 

\--

 

From his viewpoint at the edge of the canyon’s cliff, Zayn could see just how many of the natives there were. There were hundreds -no, thousands- of them, more than he could have ever believed would be hiding within the treacherous Badlands. Contrary to popular belief, these people had apparently thrived within the wilderness, and it had nearly been his undoing.

But it hadn’t been, thanks to the Guardian, who was still below working through some sort of negotiations with the people.

_Negotiations._ Zayn would have scoffed at the thought were he not watching it happen before his own eyes. It was crazy, but it was happening.

“Sir.”

Zayn’s trail of thought was cut off by Josh’s voice addressing him from behind. He turned to gaze at the man. “Yes?”

“Two hundred and thirty men accounted for, sir. The rest are presumed dead.”

Zayn’s chest ached at that number. _So, less than half of the men that we started with._ There were so many families waiting back home for their loved ones, who would never make it back to them. So many who would blame him for their deaths, and rightly so, as it was his fault for not listening to Louis when he had the chance.

A softer man would cry at the thought. But Zayn didn’t have the convenience of tears. He could cry when the mission was over and his remaining men were safe.

He cleared his throat, not looking into his friend’s eyes. “Alright, then. Make sure that everyone’s wounds are cared for, I want to be able to leave the second that the Guardian is done down there.”

The commander felt Josh’s hand press into his shoulder in comfort before he was gone. The gesture did little good, but the meaning was not lost. His friend would be there for him, as he always was in hard times like these.

Zayn’s eyes automatically fell back to the canyon below, watching Louis as he spoke with what appeared to be one of the natives’ leaders. Their words were lost on him -it crossed his mind for a brief moment that the Guardian may be speaking their language- but it didn’t seem that they were getting very far, what with the frustrated look on Louis’ face.

Movement to his right caught Zayn’s eye and he looked, only to be shocked to find two natives dragging along what appeared to be one of his soldiers, still alive. As they drew closer, Zayn began to be able to make out the man’s features, the shock of blonde hair, pale skin, a crude Irish accent lilting in the curses that drifted through the air up to the commander’s ears. It was Niall Horan, another of Zayn’s favorites.

While Zayn was grateful that Niall was not dead, his fear grew in knowing that the fact may change in the near future.

In a spur-of-the-moment decision, Zayn found himself jumping onto Misneach’s back and racing back down the steep edge of the canyon, straight towards the natives. His mind was made up; he was not losing any more of his men tonight.

The sound of Misneach’s hooves pounding along the ground alerted all of the people on the ground, causing them to look up and see the commander quickly approaching. The natives threw themselves into a new battle cry, readying their weapons for more blood-spilling.

Over the din, Zayn heard one voice in particular make it’s way from the fray in extreme clarity.

_“ZAYN!”_

It was Louis. There was no denying who that shrill, raspy voice belonged to, no forgetting the disapproval that dripped from the elongated vowels. Yeah, Louis was angry with him, but Zayn did not care. Niall was his soldier, and Zayn protected his men just as much as they protected him.

When he was just a few paces away from the mass of natives, Zayn drew his sword, slashing at each body that got in his way. It didn’t take long to reach Niall, who had managed to escape the grip of one of his captors, fighting off the knife held in the hand of the other native.

Zayn swung his sword, slashing the man’s hand off, before finishing him off with a blow to the back of his neck that went clean through. He yanked Niall’s outstretched hand, swinging him up onto Misneach’s back behind him as he took off again-- this time in Louis’ direction.

Before he even managed to get a glimpse of the Guardian, Zayn heard his voice again.

_“Get up to the top of the canyon, quickly. Don’t worry about me.”_

It was strange, how clearly Zayn could hear Louis’ voice even though he was so far away. It had happened earlier, when he first made his way down the cliff, but he hadn’t even thought to question it. But now, as he urged Misneach back up the edge of the canyon, the commander realized that he really should not have been able to hear Louis in that chaos. _He’s in your mind, you idiot_ , his mind mocked him. _You freed him, and now he’s gotten into your head._

But none of that mattered now, as a sudden and intense blue flash knocked Zayn and Niall off of Misneach just as they made it over the cliff’s edge.

 

\--

 

When Zayn awoke, the first thing that he registered was screaming. It wasn’t the regular sort of screaming-- the kind that was usually due to intense fear or excitement. No, this screaming was of an entirely different variety.

It reminded Zayn of when he and his mother had received the news of his father’s death. His mother had screamed, and then she had cried for days on end. It was even similar to the wailing all of the women of his village had done at the funeral, as was the customary ritual.

This screaming only could mean one thing: pain and death.

Zayn finally opened his eyes, slowly sitting up from where he was sprawled across the dusty ground. He looked around, noticing that all of his men were gathered to his left, looking at someone. A shock of blond hair came into view and panic cut sharp through his gut. _Niall._

He scrambled the few feet to get to Niall, adrenaline pulsing through his veins and making his reflexes even quicker than they usually were. He pushed his way through the crowd of men into the middle, where he found Niall lying on the ground, arrow sticking out of his shoulder with blood gushing out around it. Liam was kneeling to the blond’s left, already attending to the wound. When he looked up and saw his commander, he began to speak. “He got lucky, it just barely missed his heart. If we can get it out and stop the bleeding, I can patch him up easy.”

The commander watched in silence as Liam worked efficiently, working at slowing the flow of blood from Niall’s body while he discussed with Josh the best way to remove the arrow from Niall’s shoulder. It was only after a few minutes of watching that Zayn realized the screaming was still going on, and yet it was not coming from Niall nor any of the other men in the circle.

_So where is it coming from?_

Curious, Zayn stood from his place inside the group, making his way to the outside. He followed the terrible crying all the way to the canyon’s edge, where he stopped and looked out at the scene below lit in the dim light of the sun’s slow rise.

It was complete and absolute carnage. Bodies were strewn everywhere -seemingly from the blast that caused the blue flash- all of them bloodied and broken. Throughout the canyon, as far as Zayn could see, the natives lay dead. If Zayn had not known better, it would have looked to be a massacre. Though, he could probably describe it as one anyways.

One body was still standing, trembling, in the middle of all of it. Zayn automatically knew who it was, and where the screaming was coming from.

_Louis._

Louis had done this to all of these people. Louis had slaughtered the entire horde of natives, removing them from existence with a single action, a single flash.

Louis had saved them.

Louis had saved him.

Before Zayn could even realize what he was doing, he was already halfway down the canyon’s edge, making his way to the shivering Guardian. The wails only grew louder as he got to the bottom, finally able to actually see the bodies of the dead.

His eyes grew wide as he examined the grotesqueness of their deaths. Blood poured from seemingly every orifice of the bodies. The eyes of the native nearest to him were still wide open in terror, his bloody mouth frozen in a silent cry of fear. Zayn looked away, quickening his pace as he stepped over severed arms and bits of body parts that had blown apart in the blast.

Louis was not looking at him as he approached, still crying and screaming out to the mass of dead as he shook. The second Zayn’s hand touched his shoulder, the Guardian sagged to the ground, Zayn having to catch him under the arms before his face could slam into the dirt. The commander helped him so that he was lying on the ground, where he curled into a fetal position, sobbing into his arms. Not knowing what else to do for the lad, Zayn sat next to him, watching the sun rise over the lip of the canyon while Louis let out his tears.

After about twenty minutes, it was finally quiet again, the only sounds being a random sniffle or two. Finally, Louis spoke. “I killed all of those people, Zayn. I killed them, and now I can feel all of them, all of their pain, and fear, and sadness.” He looked up at the commander, glowing blue eyes peering into brown. “I can feel it, and now I wish that I was dead too.”

The other man fish-mouthed, not knowing what to say to make the Guardian feel better. Eventually he just decided not to say anything, knowing that it would not matter to the mourning boy.

More time passed in their silence, and Zayn’s mind fell to Niall. He sincerely hoped that the lad was okay, that Liam would be able to stop the bleeding and could begin the healing process. He still had that niggling feeling of panic in the back of his mind, however, telling him that maybe Niall wouldn’t be okay.

On his left, Louis began to stand up, brushing off his clothes and reaching a hand out for Zayn. “C’mon, let’s go help Niall. He’s not getting any better with us down here crying.”

Zayn accepted the hand, pulling himself up off the canyon floor with ease. “How did you-”

“No charm. I can hear your thoughts.” Louis chuckled as he pressed a finger to his temple. “Really not looking forward to putting those shackles back on. I like my powers.”

Zayn smiled tightly, not saying a word as he and the Guardian made their way back up to the top of the canyon and to his group of men.The crowd parted easily for them, allowing them through to where Liam was still working hard above an unconscious Niall.

The brunet looked up when they arrived, wiping his sweaty brow with a bloody hand. “I can’t get the bleeding stopped, sir, let alone take the arrow out. It would be a death sentence.”

“There’s been enough death today,” Louis said, already kneeling down directly across from Liam on Niall’s other side and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “Someone hand me a knife,” he yelled out, before speaking directly to Liam. “I’m going to need your help, Liam.”

The soldier looked behind Louis to Zayn, making sure that it was acceptable for him to take orders from the Guardian, who was supposed to be their prisoner.

Zayn nodded, giving the permission. “Do whatever he says, Payne.”

“Yes, sir.” He turned back to Louis. “What do you need me to do?”

Louis sighed, giving a glance back at Zayn before answering. “We are going to pull the arrow out, on my count. But first, I need that knife.”

Josh, who was still crouched next to Liam, reached around his back and pulled one from his belt and handed it over to the creature, who accepted it gratefully.

“Alright,” Louis looked around a second before settling his gaze on Liam again. “This is not going to be easy. He might wake up before the arrow is out, and if he does I need Josh to hold him down by the shoulders.” He cast a glance at the aforementioned man, who nodded in understanding. “Let’s do this then.”

Both men gripped the arrow tightly in both hands, and on Louis’ count of three they yanked, hard. The arrow barely moved more than an inch out of the blond’s body. Niall’s eyes began to flutter as they readied to pull on the object again and Josh reached out to hold the lad’s shoulders down, knowing that he would be wide awake in mere moments.

Niall began to scream and thrash in pain the second Liam and Louis began to pull on the arrow again, and on the third try the arrow finally came out. Blood began to gush out of the wound at an incredible rate, painting the blond’s tunic red as it oozed over his body.

All of the men watched in confusion as Louis grabbed the knife lying in his lap, pressing the sharp tip of it into his own palm and dragging it across the flesh until a crimson line of blood appeared from it. He leaned across Niall, pressing his bleeding palm flat against the wound.

“What the hell are you doing?” Zayn asked, brows furrowed. “How is that supposed to help him, he’s going to bleed to death!”

“Guardian blood has extreme healing qualities,” Louis murmured, straddling Niall’s torso in order to get a better angle. “He should be all patched up in a minute or so.”

“If he dies, I swear-”

“He’s not going to die, Zayn!” Louis faced the commander, blue eyes blazing in anger. “Just trust me on this, okay?”

“Alright,” the raven-haired man said, taking a small step back. “We shall see, then.”

 

\--

 

Each minute seemed an hour as the group waited, watching for any sign of Niall’s health getting better. Louis was still sat atop the boy, hand pressed deep against the wound while Liam wiped at the blood gushing around it with his own shirt, which he had removed in order to staunch the blood flow. After about five minutes, the bleeding appeared to slow and Louis removed his hand from its place over the wound. When Liam wiped away the blood, everyone in the group gasped.

The wound was completely gone, like it had never even been there.

While everyone else was gawking, Louis had turned to look at Zayn, glaring at him with a look that said ‘I told you so’.

_Yeah_ , Zayn thought to himself, _he did tell me so._

The Guardian’s face lit up with a smirk, and Zayn inwardly groaned. Louis was still listening to his thoughts. _Get out of my head, you insufferable twat._

Even with the lad’s face mostly turned away as Louis climbed off of Niall, Zayn could see the roll of Louis’ eyes. He watched as the Guardian accepted a clean rag from Liam to wrap his bleeding hand in, before turning to look at Zayn again.

_Right_ , Zayn thought to himself. _Still reading my thoughts._

It took the commander a moment before he realized that all of his men -save Liam, who was still assisting a waking and confused Niall- were watching him, waiting for instructions on what to do next. Except.. he didn’t really know what to do. Sure, he had his orders to get the Guardian back to Dandrin, but he was still completely thrown after this disaster. Half of his men were gone, all of their supplies were down in the canyon amid the remains of the natives, and the Guardian was no longer charmed. What now?

_Louis._

Zayn jolted, as the Guardian’s name came to the forefront of his mind again. He looked over to Louis, confident that it had been the man’s doing, but he discovered that the Guardian was just as confused as he was. The commander suppressed the thought, pulling himself together in order to lead his men. He made his way out from the crowd and stood before them, hands clasped behind his back and feet shoulder-width apart--the stance of a leader.

“Josh.”

The man stepped forward out of the fray. “Sir.”

“I want you to take the men down into the canyon, salvage whatever you can from our camp, and meet us back up here by high noon. We will leave once all is in order.”

“Yes, sir.”

With that, Josh began to lead all of Zayn’s warriors down into the bloody fray below, each man stepping lightly so as not to tread on the dead. Zayn watched as they slowly picked their way through the carnage until the first of them began to trickle into their camp. He finally turned away, focusing back on Liam who was still tending to Niall, even though the soldier was perfectly fine and the Guardian, who was watching the two from a short distance.

Zayn made his way over to Louis, stopping when he was stood beside him. “Thank you,” the commander murmured, quiet enough that only the Guardian would be able to hear.

The man turned his face so that his glowing eyes were staring at him full-on. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

Zayn frowned, glaring at the creature for a moment before looking away again. “You heard what I said. I’m not going to repeat it.”

He could hear Louis chuckle under his breath. “Yea, but I just wanted to see if I could get you to say it louder. Imagine that: a commander’s two soldiers hearing him thank his charge for saving one of his men. Wouldn’t it be something?”

“Shut up,” Zayn said, elbowing the man in the side. “I take it back.”

It was quiet for a short while, neither man speaking.

_You’re welcome,_ Louis’ voice crossed through his thoughts, and he smiled to himself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. The Prisoner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, I don't wanna talk about how long it took me to write this. Welcome back to the chaos, if you're someone who has already read the first part of this. Welcome, if you're someone just starting this. 
> 
> I'm really grateful to anyone who does read this, as I've found that since zayn left zouis has become a far less popular ship in this fandom. For a time, I contemplated rewriting it as larry, but someone once told me that if you can easily change a work to fit a different set of characters it is not well written. I've taken these words to heart, so while I know this will get far less reads than if it was a larry fic, I hope it is still well-liked by those who do read it. 
> 
> Sorry for that. I also just want to say that I am working hard to complete this and that I will try really hard to not take a year and a half this time. So after all of that, enjoy "The Prisoner"!

From the first day that Louis met Commander Zayn Malik, he hadn’t liked him one bit. He’d known that the man was a prideful, pompous arse from the moment that that hood had been ripped off his head and he looked into those deep brown eyes for the very first time. Sure, he had initially been intrigued by them, but they had told him everything he needed to know about the man.

And Zayn had proven him right every step of the way so far. The commander had dragged him out of the city and out into the wilderness, where he chained him up and deprived him of his powers. To make things worse, he flaunted his prisoner in front of his own soldiers and tried to use the opportunity to get inside of Louis’ head!

Yet, somehow, Louis couldn’t find it in his heart to be entirely angry with Zayn. Sure, half the time he ignored everything Louis said -though it always tended to come back to bite him in the arse- and he liked to exert his power over Louis. Even so, he had taken off the chains that charmed Louis and had allowed him to heal Niall, whom Louis knew to be a good friend of the commander. And every now and then, when Zayn had no idea he was watching, Louis could see kindness in the depths of those dark brown eyes.

He could see it when Zayn would be in deep conversation with Liam or Josh. Louis even saw it in that short moment before the natives attacked when Louis had shared a bit about himself and his powers. It had made Louis cry, because that was the first time in over two hundred years that someone had looked at him with some sort of compassion. Zayn gave him hope, and though he was still technically in captivity, Louis had honestly never felt this free in his life.

Louis puzzled at this thought as he and Zayn kept watch from the lip of the canyon while the men below began to gather what they could from the wreckage of their destroyed camp. It had been nearly decimated in their hasty retreat, the natives trampling over almost all of it in order to get at Zayn’s men before they made it to the top of the canyon. It wouldn’t take long for the warriors to retrieve whatever was left, seeing as nearly all of it was beyond repair.

It made Louis’ heart sink, knowing that so many people had died, so much was lost, due to what he had done. _It was the only way to save Zayn_ , his heart and mind reminded him. _If you allow him to die you will never be free._ He knew this, he really did, but it pained him that so much had to be destroyed in order that one man might live. 

Louis swallowed back the sharp pangs his heart gave off. To distract himself, he gazed at Zayn from the corner of his eye, watching his sleek profile against the rising sun. The man’s raven black hair, mussed from the night of fighting, was stark in contrast with the pink and orange hues of the first light of the day. As the sun rose higher, Louis was able to see the state that the commander’s clothes were in: torn in places and covered in splotches of drying blood. He was uncertain as to whether the blood belonged to Zayn or one of the dead.

"Are you injured?" Louis asked, reaching a hand out to Zayn ' arm without even thinking.

The commander jolted, taking a step in the direction away from him as his eyes flew up to meet Louis'. "What?"

"Are you injured," he repeated, bringing his arm back to his side slowly. "You've a lot of blood on you. Some of it might be your own."

Zayn blinked once at him before looking down at his clothing. He blinked again. "Oh. I guess I hadn't noticed." The commander slowly stretched his right arm a bit, wincing slightly. "I am a bit sore, I guess. Suppose I ought to check myself later on."

Louis' brows furrowed. "Why not now? If you wait too long, infection will set into any wounds you might have and you will be fever - ridden and no good to anyone."

Zayn's own brows raised. "Well, I suppose that's what I have you for, now isn't it?"

Anger built up inside Louis, causing him to growl at the man before him. How dare Zayn assume that he was at his beck and call? Louis was a person, not just some object he could drag around wherever he went and use however he pleased. Louis' fingers twitched, blue light emitting from the ends of each one. _Calm down,_ his inner voice spoke. _You can't hurt him. Just walk away._ So that's exactly what Louis did, paying no mind to the man behind him who watched him walk away with a curious gaze.

 

\--

 

Louis was sat in an outcropping of boulders along the edge of the canyon by the time the group made it back from their scavenging. He watched, arms wrapped around the knees pulled to his chest as they crested the cliff. It was obvious that not much had been found in the mess, indicated by the distraught faces of the soldiers and the barely-filled bags they held in their hands.

He knew why they were so worried. It would take four days to get across the Badlands, and another two days’ trip on top of that to get to Urthain. There most likely wouldn’t be enough food to get them there. Not only that, many of their horses had been killed as well, meaning that the trip could take even longer. More men would die, due to the hot sun overhead and the lack of food and water.

Men would die, and it would be on Louis’ head. Of course, it would also be on Zayn’s since he was their commander, but it would definitely be on Louis’. He was their Guardian, the person put in charge of protecting every single person on the planet, and he was allowing them to die. Hell, he had even killed some of them himself, down in that canyon. And Louis knew that he was paying for it. The voices of those people were still filling his thoughts, swirling around in his brain amid everything else. It was horrible, but he knew he deserved it. And he would deserve it again if he couldn't get these remaining men back to their families.

 _Will you not help?_ Louis shot a prayer up to the heavens. _Will you not allow these few to make it back home? If not for me, do it for them. Please don’t make them suffer because of me._

Of course, there was no reply. There hadn't been one for such a long time, that the Guardian could hardly remember a time when there had been an answer from above. He expected the silence nowadays.

There were days when the silence angered Louis. He was a _Guardian,_ for heaven’s sake, and he couldn't even hold a proper conversation with the one person he was meant to be closer to than everyone else. But there had been other days, days long passed now, when he would cry over it, knowing that he had messed up and could never be forgiven for what he had done.

Like he had said, Louis expected the silence. It no longer bothered him.

His thoughts were interrupted by Zayn picking his way along the edge of the canyon to Louis’ spot. Louis stood as the man came to a stop in front of him.

Zayn cleared his throat. “We’re going to be leaving soon, so you’d best come with me. Also,” he paused pulling something from a pocket in his trousers. “One of the men found these hidden beneath one of the less-damaged tents.” Louis’ throat clenched at the sight of the charmed shackles.

He opened his mouth to speak before Zayn cut him off. “I know that you don’t want to wear them, but for the moment I think that it’s best that you do. I need some time to think it over, no more than a day. I’ll let you know what my decision is tonight when we make camp.”

Louis sighed, but he put out his arms, allowing the commander to lock the cuffs around his wrists, this time not as tight as before. “I was kind of hoping that they had been lost forever in the rubble.” He tried to chuckle to lighten the mood, but it only made his tight throat sore.

Louis could physically feel the charm in his body, stunting the reach of his powers, binding them up tight within him. They longed to break free, so used to the freedom Louis granted them, but were held at bay by the simple metal bracelets on his wrists. The only bright side was that he could no longer hear the voices of all the men he had killed, rather it had dimmed to a small thrum at the back of his head that Louis could only hear if he focused really hard on it. _Fat chance of that._

“C’mon then,” he heard Zayn murmur under his breath as he gripped his upper arm, slowly leading them back to the others. As they drew closer, Louis noticed that everyone was already packed up and ready to go -those with horses already mounted up- meaning that they had all been waiting for him and Zayn. He felt a bit embarrassed at the attention focused on him, though he wasn’t quite certain as to why, and tried to hide his blush as the commander led him to his large horse.

Louis was surprised, however, when -rather than tying him to the rope attached to his saddle like he had done yesterday- Zayn lifted him up onto his own horse. The Guardian fish-mouthed, unsure of what exactly to say, while he watched the commander place his foot into a stirrup and heft himself up into the saddle in front of Louis. He ended up just stuttering out, “Uhm.”

The man sat in front of him chuckled, and Louis could feel it from where his hands had unconsciously gripped the man’s sides, holding on tight. “Would you rather walk?” Before Louis even had a chance to answer the question, Zayn was already speaking again. “You will need your strength later on, better to conserve it now while my horse still lives.”

Louis knew internally that his strength would last much longer than any of the other men, and he figured that Zayn probably had figured that as well, but he appreciated the kindness that the commander was showing him. He gripped the man’s waist just a bit tighter as Zayn signaled with a flap of the reigns for the large beast to move, starting their long journey.

He sent one last glance up to the sky, heart hoping that just maybe this time, his prayers would be answered. _Please._

 

\--

 

Louis’ head bobbed as he fought sleep for the umpteenth time during their day’s ride. The constant rocking motion of the beast beneath him alongside the hot, dry air and lack of conversation from Commander Malik mixed together to make the Guardian increasingly drowsy. When his head smacked against the back of Zayn's shoulder, he groaned, reaching his cuffed hands up to rub against the reddening sore area.

He heard the Commander’s soft chuckle. “Are you alright back there?”

“M’fine,” he replied grumpily. “I'll have you know that your shoulder happens to make a terrible pillow.”

Zayn snorted, this time making no attempt to conceal his amusement. He turned his head slightly in order to look back at the Guardian. “Serves you right, I suppose. I'd rather you didn’t sleep when you could be assisting my scouts by keeping an eye out. Pull your weight, Guardian.”

Louis couldn't see the Commander’s face, but he could feel the man's back stiffen. He tensed a bit himself, knowing that he had made Zayn angry. “Alright, then,” he murmured under his breath.

“I would watch your mouth if I were you Guardian,” Zayn said rigidly. “Or you might just find this trip far more difficult for you than when we originally started out.”

Louis opted not to speak, instead choosing to lay his head on Zayn’s shoulder once more. He tightened his grip on the back of Zayn’s shirt as the horse’s movement jostled him again. He did, however, keep one eye on the surrounding landscape, watching the distant horizon for any change.

They continued like this, quietly and carefully crossing the Badlands, until the sun burned hot overhead. At this time, it seemed that Zayn had seen fit for the group to stop to rest and eat before continuing on. There were no trees or large rocks to provide shade for miles in any direction, so they were all forced to sit atop clothing items or blankets laid out over the hot dirt and sand while the sun beat down on them as they ate and rested.

Louis watched as Zayn chose a spot out along the perimeter of the group to lay out the blanket that covered his horse’s back, assisting Louis off of the animal first.  Louis’ hands inadvertently gripped the front of Zayn’s shirt as the Commander helped him down from his mount, surprising himself when he froze after he caught a whiff of Zayn on the drop down, his natural musk hidden underneath the tang of blood and sweat. He realized that he had paused a moment too long when Zayn backed away from him a bit, causing Louis’ hands to tug at the Commander’s shirt where they were still clenched. Louis blushed and released his grip, backing away a bit while he watched Zayn unhook his horse’s saddle, setting it on the ground before pulling the saddle blanket off the horse’s back to lay it on the ground.

“What’s his name?” Louis asked, trying to break the uneasy silence that had come between the two.

The Commander spared Louis a short glance before he leaned down to retrieve a stake and hammer out of the bag attached to his saddle. “His name’s Misneach,” Zayn said as he began to hammer the stake into the ground. Satisfied, he dropped the hammer and reached for Misneach’s reins, tying them to the post he had just put in the ground. “It’s Gaelic for-”

“Strength,” Louis cut him off, reaching his shackled hands up to rub the animal’s rear flank. “He’s a beautiful horse.”

The Commander merely grunted and ignored him as he replaced the hammer in the saddle bag and then reached inside to pull out a bit of food and his canteen of water. Louis rolled his eyes, knowing that Zayn was intentionally trying to piss him off. It seemed that they were both good at making each other angry or upset, rather than having any sort of genuine conversation. But he knew that they would have to reconcile at some point, if Louis’ master plan of getting Zayn on his side was going to work out. Someone was going to have to be the bigger man and admit defeat, and it appeared that Louis would be the one to swallow his pride and give in.

That’s exactly what he did, sitting cross-legged atop the blanket draped across the ground, watching as Zayn did the same directly across from him. Half the crust of bread that Zayn held landed on the blanket before him. Deep brown eyes met his for a mere moment before they were back on the horizon.

“Eat up. We’ve got a long way to go yet.”

They consumed their meal in silence, save for the sand crunching beneath Misneach’s hooves as he paced in the small space his lead afforded him. The hot sun beat down on them relentlessly, and Louis found himself wishing that he had more than just his thin tunic and pants to protect his body from its rays. His hair was soaked through with sweat, rivulets of it sliding down his neck and back, his only relief from the unbearable heat of the desert. He saw that Zayn fared no better -- probably worse, due to the weight of his armor atop his sweaty clothes. His dark hair clung to his forehead and neck, which glistened with sweat.

He forced his eyes away from the sight to see the Commander watching him with a curious gaze. The moment seemed as vulnerable as any, so Louis allowed himself to speak.

“I’m sorry.”

Zayn blinked, twice, rocking back in his seat a little as his eyebrows raised.

“You're sorry. What for?”

“Being a nuisance.”

Zayn chuffed, “I think what you mean to say is that you're sorry for being an absolute pain in my ass.”

Louis let his gaze drop to his lap, playing it up. “Right.”

He could hear Zayn’s sigh, and a glance up from under his fringe revealed that Zayn's gaze had become earnest.

“But… You did save Niall, which I need to apologize for. I should know better than to question a Guardian’s judgement in that kind of a situation, apparently.”

“Wow,” Louis chuckled, sitting up straight. “I must be lucky to hear you say such flattering things. Are you that way with everybody, or is it just for me?”

“You don't seem all that sorry.” Zayn's glare was nowhere near as cold as it had been earlier that day. Louis would take it as a victory, for now.

“I am,” Louis said as an odd warmth bubbled somewhere deep inside him. “Trust me, I am.”

 

\--

 

For the second night in a row, Louis found himself sitting before a campfire, dining with the man that had taken him captive. He was surprised that Zayn would even be willing to risk fires after what had happened the night before. The lights and smoke would be like a signal to any potential enemies still out there. And yet, those enemies might stay away in fear of what he had done that same night, killing all of those people.

Louis’ throat was dry as he swallowed against the emotion that welled up at the thought. He needed to keep his mind off of that, so he forced himself to tune back into the conversation happening around him. From what he could tell, Zayn was telling a story of some grand thing he had done in a battle… _yada yada, whatever_.

He was cutting in before he could even think to stop himself. “I don’t know about anyone else here, but I would like to hear a story about something other than all of your grand conquests, Commander.” He could feel Zayn’s hard gaze on him without even having to look in his direction.

“What would you like to hear then, Guardian. Please, enlighten us.”

The men around him laughed at their leader’s mocking tone. Louis refused to let it bother him, pushing harder.

“Why don’t you tell us a story about your home?”

It was silent for far longer than it ought to have been. When Louis looked away from the fire, he saw something dark in Zayn’s eyes. Pain perhaps, or even anger, flashed deep within the Commander’s guarded gaze. Louis saw it for only a split second before it was gone, and it caused something deep within him to wriggle in discomfort. Apparently it was a touchy subject.

Whether it was or not, the Commander obliged Louis. As he started his tale, his eyes never broke their stare straight into Louis’ self. The Guardian wanted to look away, but found that he couldn’t.

“It was a small village, near the Great Sea, where I called my childhood home. My father was a fisherman. He would go out on his boat with the sunrise every morning, and return at dusk every evening. Once in a while I would go out onto his boat with him and help. It probably did more harm than good, as the nets were heavy, and anytime I tried to help him he had to keep an eye out to make sure the net did not drag me back into the ocean with the fish.”

Some of the men laughed at this, probably relating their own similar stories in their heads. Zayn waited for it to be silent before he continued again.

“One day, it did. I wasn’t supposed to have gone with him, as I was meant to help my mother with the chores that day. Being the young rascal that I was, I chose to hid on the boat beneath the nets so that he couldn’t see me. I didn’t reveal myself until we were already out on the water and too far out to go back without wasting precious fishing time, so he allowed me to stay.”

This time Louis knew the emotion that flashed behind Zayn’s eyes. Guilt. A lump formed in his throat that he couldn’t swallow away.

“I wasn’t paying enough attention, I guess, and somehow managed to get my ankle caught in the net. When my grip slipped, the net dragged me into the water with it. Once beneath the water, I couldn’t tell up from down. I tried to struggle against where I was stuck, but I couldn’t get free, it just kept pulling me down farther and farther. My father must have jumped in after me, as he appeared suddenly and worked at my ankle to get me free. As soon as the rope was gone, I began to swim upward towards the boat. When I surfaced, I dragged myself into the boat and waited for my father to come back.”

Zayn’s voice cracked a little, but he did not tear up. Louis hated himself for saying anything. _Should have kept your mouth shut, you idiot._

“He should have made it. He was a strong swimmer, had even taught me how to swim the summer before. But somehow, he didn’t. I waited for what seemed like hours on that boat, under the hot sun. He never reappeared. I screamed for him to come back. I screamed for anyone to help, but no one came. By the time the sun began to set, I knew I had no choice but to turn back. I rowed the boat back the best I could, but I only made it about halfway before another fishing boat caught up with me. They tethered the boat to their own while I tried to explain what happened. I don’t know how much I actually told them, as I was crying the whole time.”

The only dry eyes that Louis could see around the fire were Zayn’s own. His heart ached.

“I couldn’t face my mother when we got back. I ran straight into our little hut and hid. I could hear the men through the window outside as they told my mother what had happened. She screamed and cried, demanded more answers that the men couldn’t provide. She stayed in bed for a week, only coming out for the funeral that they held for my father. Families were in and out of our home offering their consolations. No one would talk to me, not even my mother. A year later I ran away and joined the army. I haven’t been back since.”

Silence reigned around the fire, not a soul eager to speak the first words after the revealing story. Zayn stood, brushing the dust from his pants.

“I hope that you are satisfied with your story, Guardian. I am going to retire now, so goodnight to you all. Get some rest, we will set off early again tomorrow.”

The Commander left, leaving a crowd of gawking soldiers in his wake. Louis could not find it in himself to meet anyone else’s eyes, particularly Liam’s, who was watching him with anger. He forced himself to stand and leave in the same direction as Zayn. He had to fix his mistake.

He caught up with the man before he made it to his tent.

“Zayn, stop.”

Zayn stopped in his tracks, but did not turn to look at Louis. “What do you want? Another story from my childhood, perhaps? Was that one not tragic enough for you?”

Louis forced himself to come closer, laying a hand on Zayn’s shoulder. The action caused the other man to turn and look at him. The broken look in his eyes was enough to make Louis want to die a thousand deaths.

“I am so sorry.”

Zayn’s laugh was dark. “We both keep saying that, but I’m not so sure that either of us truly means it.”

“I do, I swear it.”

Zayn sighed, running a hand across his face. His voice was cold as he spoke. “You will sleep with Liam and Niall tonight. If I find that you have gotten free again, I will hunt you down and have you flogged then drag you the rest of the way to Urthain from the back of my horse. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Louis answered, voice hoarse and body stiff with fear.

“Get some sleep, Guardian. The road ahead of us is long and difficult.” With that, he entered the tent, leaving Louis alone in the night.

It was the most alone he had felt in a long time.

 

\--

 

The night was long and cold, as nights in the desert often are. As he lay between a sleeping Niall and Liam, Louis watched the stars that night. It had been centuries since he had last been able to just rest and stargaze. Once, he had felt a strong connection to the Almighty when he did this, but now all he felt was the gaping distance between them.

The stars reminded him of his childhood. Of the nights when he would lay out like this with his father and listen to the stories of the cosmos. He had been so eager to know about the different constellations, his interest unknowingly founded in something far deeper than just a child’s amazement. He was connected with the stars in a way his young mind couldn’t have possibly grasped.

His parents had never told him that he was something -- someone -- special, that he was different from the other children in his village. He wasn’t sure that they had ever truly known for themselves until the day that a strange man visited their home. He was old, like the elders that lived in Louis’ village, and walked around using a large stick as a cane. Louis had found the man curious, as he walked with a limp and his clothes were tattered and dirty. Louis had been made to leave, to go off and play with the other children in the fields outside of their village. It was just beginning to get dark when he came back. His parents and the strange man were waiting patiently at the table for him.

 _‘Louis, come here,’_ he remembers his mother beckoning him. He had been frightened by the strange gaze the unfamiliar man gave him, but still listened and went into his mother’s comforting arms. _‘Darling we have something very important to tell you, but you have to promise me that you’re going to be very brave for me. Can you be my brave boy?’_

Louis can distinctly remember the look of his mother’s eyes in that moment. They were a deep, beautiful blue, that had reminded him of his favorite pond to swim in at summertime. But now he knew the emotion behind them that he had not been able to recognize as a small child. She had been scared and so, so sad.

_‘Yes, mummy.’_

They explained what the man had told him, how he was someone different, that he was special. That he would be a Guardian, a protector of the entire world, that he would have unimaginable powers. How he would speak to God, and God would speak back.

How they thought he was anywhere near ready to hear all of this, Louis had no idea. It was terrifying news for a seven-year-old to hear. He knows that he had been confused, that it was the first time he would feel the lonely distance from the rest of the world that now accompanied him constantly.

His younger self hadn’t had a lot of time to process all of this information before the visitor spoke up, shattering the silence. His grey eyes stared deep into Louis’ own. _‘Louis, I need you to understand something.’_

He had nodded, burrowing deeper into his mother’s warm arms.

_‘There are people that are going to come looking for you. They want the powers that you have inside of you. We can’t let that happen, so you will be leaving with your parents in the morning.’_

_‘Is that really necessary,’_ his mother had questioned. _‘He’s not showed any signs of what he can do yet, so they can’t find him. He could still be safe here for a few years, couldn’t he?’_

_‘His eyes are changing. What color did they used to be?’_

Louis had been able to feel all three sets of their eyes on him at that moment. But he had also been confused. His eyes didn’t feel any different than they always had. He had begun to cry in confusion.

 _‘Shhh darling, you’re alright. There’s nothing wrong with you.’_ His mother had always known just how to make him feel better. He never got to hear the rest of their conversation, as he cried himself to sleep in his mother’s warm embrace.

He hadn’t known that it would be the last time that he would be able to do so. The man hadn’t known that people were already watching Louis and his family, that these people had already known what he was and were just waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

The soldiers had shown up the very next morning as they were packing all of their things onto the family’s wagon. He and his mother hid in their small hut, but he had still been able to hear when they killed his father for fighting back. They broke through the door easily and a large man had ripped him out of his mother’s arms.

He had screamed and cried, unable to fight back as the man put him on his horse and mounted, riding away. Louis had been able to hear his mother’s screams for a mile before they drifted away on the wind. He would never see her again.

Tears spilled unchecked from Louis’ eyes. He tried in vain to wipe them away with the sleeve of his dirty tunic. The pain gathered up in his chest until he could bear it no longer. A small sob escaped his lips as he sat up, gathering his legs to his chest and burying his face in his knees. It must have been louder than he thought as Niall stirred next to him, eyes opening.

“Whass’it?” the blond slurred, mind still muddled with sleep.

“Nothing,” Louis whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

“Alright. Don’t go nowhere.” Niall rolled over and fell back asleep, his soft snores filling the silence.

“Don’t worry,” Louis said into the night as he gazed up at the stars once more. They no longer appealed to him and he found himself cursing them in his mind. “I don’t have anywhere to go. Not anymore.”

 

\--

 

The following morning, Zayn barely spared a look for Louis, let alone spoke to him. The Guardian did note, however, that he seemed shocked that Louis didn’t try to get away again like he had in the past. This aggravated Louis a bit, as he was not stupid, like the Commander seemed to think. He knew when to leave well enough alone. Zayn was smart and determined, and Louis knew that if he had tried to leave Zayn would have tracked him down and done even more than he had promised. While Louis knew he would not die from the ministrations, he still felt pain and could not bear the thought of enduring it.

The camp was packed up quickly, seeing as the group had far less supplies than they had started out with. When everything was finally done and they were getting ready to leave, Louis found himself standing around awkwardly, not really knowing where he was meant to go. After what had happened last night, he was positive that Zayn did not want to be anywhere near him, so he had no idea who he would be travelling with.

Hoofbeats approached, and Louis looked up to see Zayn’s second in command coming closer.

“You’ll be riding with me today, Guardian,” the man said, reaching a hand down to help Louis swing himself up onto the horse. “The name’s Josh.”

“Louis.” He tried to let himself settle into the saddle, the way he had done with Zayn. It was more difficult this time, as he found himself a bit more hesitant to allow himself to grab onto Josh for balance. Louis managed, however, finding it a bit easier to get used to riding a horse each time he got on.

As the caravan of soldiers began to move, Josh spoke up again. “So what exactly did you do to anger the Commander this time, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“You didn’t hear?”

“I’d like to hear it from the source. I’m not one for gossip.”

Louis sighed, allowing himself to relax into the steady rocking of the horse’s gait. “I did something stupid.”

Josh laughed, turning his head a bit to gaze back at Louis. “We all do stupid things every now and then. It’s part of being human.” His eyes were kind, and Louis appreciated the sentiment. It was a rare experience anymore. “Or, in your case, mostly human.”

“I asked Zayn to talk about his childhood. In front of his men.”

Josh whistled lowly. “Now, that truly was stupid.”

“Thanks,” Louis chuckled deprecatingly.

“I wasn’t done speaking,” Josh interjected. “While that was in fact stupid, he didn’t kill you, so you aren’t hopeless."

“I don’t think he has much of a choice, does he? His entire mission involves bringing me back alive.”

“Think about it, though. You are riding on a horse back to Urthain, rather than walking or being dragged like I’m sure Zayn threatened.”

Louis laughed, “That he did.”

“So you really don’t have it all that bad. Give it a day or two to get it out of his system. The Commander’ll come back around. He always does when he gets into a funk.”

“Good to know,” Louis whispered under his breath. In a tone Josh could actually hear, he asked, “So tell me more about Urthain. I’ve never been there before, what’s it like?”

He listened as Josh told him all about the country where they were headed. According to the soldier, the most beautiful aspect about Urthain were its mountain ranges. “Every morning and night when the sun touches them, it’s a brand new experience. I can’t even completely describe how glorious it is.”

“Tell me more about your village.”

Louis could listen all day as Josh went on about his home and the people in it. The baker around the corner who made the most delicious of pastries. The family down the road with two little boys that would chase small animals through the street as a game, who would have no idea what to do if they actually caught one. The pub on the edge of the village where the food was good, but the dancing was better. All of these descriptions made his heart full, as he could compare it to his memories of the village where he was young. It all reminded him of his life before it went to shit.

“I think you’ll really like Urthain,” Josh finished off, bringing Louis back into the present.

“If I get to see any of it,” Louis scoffed.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m a prisoner, not a visitor. I’ll be stuck in the castle or in some sort of dungeon somewhere, not touring the country.”

“You’ll get to see it,” Josh said, resolute in his decision. “The castle where the king spends most of his time is in the center of the country, so you will get to see at least that much.”

“Of course,” Louis acquiesced, not wanting to think about it any longer.

“Besides, why would the king want to lock you up in a room and leave you there? What purpose would that serve?"

“You’re kidding, right?” Louis said, becoming a bit angry. “What could your king possibly want with the strongest power source in the world that has a thousand-year lifespan?” Louis continued, knowing he was being a bit mean, but he couldn’t help it. He had a lot of pent up anger and frustration that was fighting its way out. “Your king will do what every other king in possession of Guardian will do. He will use it for every possible thing that he can think of until he dies, and then his ancestors will do the same until the Guardian either dies or escapes. And then they will find the next one and do it all over again.”

“I am so sorry,” Josh said quietly, all joy about going home gone from his attitude in an instant.

“I know that you are, but your words can do nothing for me.”

Louis lay his head onto Josh’s shoulder, trying to let their steady gait lull him to sleep. He didn’t want to think, or feel, anymore.

 

\--

 

By the time Louis awoke, the sun was high in the sky, and Josh was nudging at his leg telling him it was time for them to dismount and eat. He brushed himself off and alighted from the horse with Josh’s help, murmuring a quick thanks to him in return. He was starting to get used to this schedule of waking up, riding, eating, riding again, then stopping for camp only to repeat it the following day.

A shadow crossed over him, and Louis looked up to find Zayn standing before him. He was surprised to see a small smile on the man’s face rather than the grimace he had received earlier on in the day whenever their eyes met.

“Are you alright,” Zayn asked, coming a step closer into Louis’ space. “I saw that you were sleeping for most of the ride earlier, are you not feeling well?”

“I’m fine.” Louis stumbled over his words a bit as his thoughts were roiling over the ramifications of Zayn worrying about him. “I just didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Alright.” Zayn seemed to realize exactly how close he was, taking a couple steps back to make up for it. “I’ve got some food for us, if you’d care to eat with me, that is.”

“Of course.”

Louis allowed himself to be led to where Zayn had set up a place for them to eat. The blanket from Misneach’s back had once again been laid out onto the ground, and some bread and dried meat were laid out. Zayn pulled his canteen from where it was tied onto his belt, passing it to Louis, who took a long swig of water from it.

“Thank you.”

Zayn only nodded as they both sat down to their meager meal. The silence between them lasted only minutes as Louis watched Zayn fidget in his seat a bit before finally setting down his food and meeting Louis’ eyes.

“I find that I must once again apologize--”

Louis stopped Zayn before he could say anything more. “I think we both have a multitude of things, both present and future actions, that we need to apologize for.” He chuckled before settling on a soft smile at the Commander. “Let’s just agree on one open-ended, all-encompassing apology now and move on with our lives. If we don’t, I’m afraid we will never stop.”

The Commander sighed deeply and gratefully. “I can agree to those terms.”

“Good.” Louis took a bite of bread, chewing and swallowing it before speaking again. “Because, while I quite enjoy watching you grovel, it gets quite annoying after a while.”

“Is that so?” Zayn’s smirk made Louis pause. _Is he teasing me?_

“Of course,” he sniffed, deciding to play along. “Who wants to watch a grown man snivel around on the ground like a dog all day?”

“Is that what I am to you,” Louis watched as Zayn leaned closer to him, rising up onto his knees. “A dog, begging for scraps?”

His breath hitched as Zayn’s hand pushed on his shoulder so that he was laying on the blanket beneath them. The Commander crawled on top of him on all fours, his face drawing nearer until they were only a breath away. His shackled hands came up to grasp Zayn’s tunic, but he wasn’t sure whether he meant to push him away or pull him closer.

His eyes almost crossed as he watched Zayn’s lips form a sentence.

“Do I look like a dog to you now, Louis?”

“I-,” Louis swallowed, unable to form words. His heart was beating so hard that he feared it would leap from his chest. His hands were shaking. “Um.”

Zayn laughed, finally sitting up and moving from his place on top of Louis. Louis blinked, his mind finally seeming to come back to him, and made himself sit up and begin eating again.

“Very funny.”

“Aren’t I?” He glanced back at Zayn to see him smirking back with a knowing look in his eyes. Louis forced himself to dismiss it. _There’s no way that he could know, he’s just got the sun in his eyes. That’s all._

 

\--

 

It was about a few hours into their ride after lunch that the inevitable finally happened. Louis could hear the man’s scream first, as it carried all the way towards the front of the caravan, where Josh and he were riding.

He turned where he was in his seat, but could not see a thing. Josh must have had the same idea as himself, as he immediately redirected his horse to where all of the noise was coming from. Louis’ gut wrenched as the man and his horse came into view, and he could see the severity of the accident. The horse had collapsed mid stride, crushing its rider’s leg beneath it. The animal must have been too weak from exhaustion and heat to get up, as it made no effort to do so.

He jumped down from Josh’s mount, crouching near the man in an effort to comfort him and assess the damage done. He and Josh, who had come to help as well, both worked at lifting the animal so that the man could be pulled out from beneath it, but it was of little use.

“What’s going on here?”

Louis looked up to see Zayn had approached on Misneach, and he was looking down on the situation with considerable unease. He knew what the Commander was thinking without even having to read his thoughts. This was only the beginning. Men and horses alike would start dropping like flies the longer they were in the Badlands with little food, water, and shelter.

“His leg is crushed, most likely broken. The horse can’t go any further.” Louis replied, keeping his voice steady as his eyes met Zayn’s own. He forced himself to keep his mind on the situation at hand rather than think about how brown Zayn’s eyes had been when he was straddling him earlier that day.

He was surprised when Zayn actually dismounted from his horse, coming forward to help try to get the man out from under his horse without hurting him further. Liam joined them in lifting the heavy animal, and they all heaved until they were able to lift the limp animal’s torso enough to allow two soldiers to drag the man out.

“Can you help him?"

Louis heard the voice from directly behind him as he stooped over the injured man. He looked back to see Zayn watching worriedly, eyes dark. He gauged the damage to the man’s leg, feeling that the bones were fractured in multiple places. Fortunately, the man had passed out from pain early on, or he would be screaming in Louis’ ear right now, which he would not have appreciated.

“Bone and skin are two separate things. There’s only so much that I can do.”

Zayn seemed to understand what he meant, and Louis was grateful. Guardian blood was not the cure for every illness and injury, something his past captors had not seemed to understand. His mind flashed to an unwelcome memory of being strapped down on a table in a tent on the edge of a battle, being drained of his very life force to try to heal men that would be dead upon the hour even with his help. The overwhelming feeling of helplessness and terror washed over him without warning, and Louis was forced to sit back and take deep breaths to attempt to still the trembling of his hands.

Deep brown eyes met his own, and suddenly Louis was back in the present. They asked ‘ _Are you alright?_ ’ without a single word being spoken aloud, and Louis replied with a nod.

He went back to work, doing his best to follow Liam’s instructions for bandaging the leg in a manner that would keep it stiff in order to heal correctly. As he worked, he could overhear Zayn discussing with Josh what to do with the horse, now that it was unable to continue the journey. When he heard the Commander casually mention slitting the horse’s throat and harvesting its meat, he automatically jumped up to intervene.

“If you think that I am going to allow you to just slaughter a helpless animal like that you are dead wrong.” He angrily spat the words at Zayn, grabbing a knife from Josh’s belt before either of them could stop him.

“What are you planning to do, then?” he could hear the Commander ask, but he ignored it in favor of kneeling down with the dying horse, brushing its mane softly with a tender coo.

Louis’ very nature prevented him from doing harm to helpless creatures, both human and animals alike. In this case, he knew he was doing the horse a favor, rather than allowing it to die slowly and painfully. So Louis softly sang the animal to sleep, petting its sweaty coat with gentle hands, before ending its suffering with a strategically placed stab of the dagger into its brain. This very same nature, however, could not stop him from allowing Zayn’s men to butcher the horse’s meat for food right after.

He returned the knife to Josh after cleaning it on his dusty pants. Zayn still watched him curiously, and he could not refrain from explaining himself. “I may be a poor excuse for a Guardian, but I still have to uphold my duties. That horse served you and your soldier well, it did not deserve a painful death.”

“Alright, then.” Zayn bowed his head in deference to Louis’ decision. At the surprise that must have shown on Louis’ face, he continued. “Well, I can’t really argue with your logic, as it still allows my men to have food for the rest of the trip.” He looked around at the place where they had stopped, sizing it up. “I suppose we can stop here for tonight, so long as we leave early tomorrow. We can tend to the wounded man and cook up the meat for dinner.”

“Of course,” Louis responded, not entirely sure why Zayn was telling him this, but nonetheless grateful for the interaction. As he watched the Commander walk away, he puzzled once more at how contrasting the man’s moods always seemed to be, and at how he himself could possibly still be so enthralled with the man despite this.

 

\--

 

By the time night fell and they had made camp again, Louis knew that he was back in Zayn’s good favors. Rather than having one of the soldiers under Zayn’s command put the Commander’s tent up, he and Zayn had done it for themselves. It probably had taken twice the amount of time that it should have, with the two of them constantly fumbling around and causing the whole thing to collapse again. Louis supposed that he should have realized just how oblivious and stupidly enchanted he had been acting when he left for a few minutes to get a drink of water, only to come back to Zayn hammering in the tent’s last peg.

Even at that moment, sitting on the ground of the tent after dinner, once again chained to the end of the man’s bed, Louis found that he couldn’t take his eyes off of Zayn. He watched the man’s chest rise and fall in the perfect rhythm of the living, and somehow the sleeping Commander’s calmness radiated onto his own self.

Louis chastised himself for being so casual and idiotic with the very man that still held him captive. _For fuck’s sake, Louis, he still has you in these damned shackles._ He knew, however, that something was happening between the two of them, and he hoped that he could work it in his favor by the time they reached Urthain.

Yet, some part of Louis seemed to fight against his resolve to trick the Commander. Deep down in his soul, it knew something that he didn’t, something that most likely end up with Louis giving up on the plan and letting himself be taken prisoner by yet another king with a plan to rule the world with his new mighty weapon. It wriggled in his innermost parts and made it so that he could not sleep.

And thus, Louis spent the night watching the Commander. He studied the way that the man’s long eyelashes fluttered against his high cheekbones as he dreamt, much like one would imagine a girl’s might as she made eyes at the man that sought her heart. Louis memorized the way that each strand of Zayn’s hair fell against his forehead just so, in a manner that seemed both lazy and perfection within the same thought. He let his eyes travel farther down to capture the image of the man’s strong hands, sturdy and calloused from a life of working for a living, scarred from years of battle, dirty from laboring in the dry dust of the desert alongside his men.

By the time the sun rose, Louis thought that he could give an accurate depiction of the man by heart, could commission a statue in the man’s likeness based solely from his own descriptions. When Zayn awakened and opened his eyes for the day, Louis finally let himself look away, wondering if he would now be able to stop staring at the man, and instead hold a steady inward gaze at the man in his memory.

Louis found this to be untrue, as Zayn insisted on holding a discussion with him the entire morning’s ride, keeping Misneach in stride right next to Josh’s horse. For some unknown reason, the Commander did not see fit to have Louis ride with him again, not that Louis minded much. Due to the current events, he found that he needed to keep some distance from the man. Every time Zayn came close, Louis’ heart would beat just a bit faster, his mouth would become drier than the desert, and those deep brown eyes would hold his own ransom.

It came into his head later on in the day before they stopped for lunch, that he ought to discuss these symptoms with Josh, perhaps Liam or even Niall. It was troubling how he was completely enraptured with the Commander, as he ought to be utterly repulsed by the very man leading him to his future prison.

By the time the sun was once again high in the sky, and Zayn decided to stop them, Louis had devised his plan. When he and Josh dismounted, he completely ignored Zayn, instead following the second-in-command to where he would choose to consume his meal. Luckily enough for Louis, he was joining both Liam and Niall, who were already lounging on a blanket and eating.

Both of their eyes raised in confusion at seeing Louis join them, but did not speak a word on the matter, rather making room for one more.

As he plopped down ungracefully into his seat, Louis already began speaking what was on his mind. “Lads, I have something I need to discuss with you.”

Niall chortled, some bread he’d had in his mouth making its way back out and onto the ground as he spoke. “If it’s the thing about the birds and the bees, I’m out on this one.” He raised his hands in surrender.

Louis’ brows crinkled in confusion, “I have no idea what you are on about, but no it’s not about flying animals and their pollination habits.” He paused in concern as Niall once again choked upon the abundance of food in his mouth. When he was assured that the man was alright, he continued. “I’ve been having some… strange feelings lately, and I don’t really know what to make of them.”

“Are these feelings of the bum pain variety, because I _told_ Zayn that he needs to--” Liam’s hand stopped Niall from continuing.

“Does he have a fever, because we can take care of that right now--”

“Just tell us what these strange feelings are, Louis,” Josh cut in.

Louis explained briefly what he had been experiencing lately, leaving out the detail of how he had spent the entirety of last night staring at Zayn rather than sleeping. He told them about how his heart would randomly begin to race, his mouth become useless and dry no matter how much water he drank, and all only when the Commander was around.

Their small circle became quiet for a long time, each of the men looking at each other a bit dumbfounded, before Liam finally spoke up.

“Louis, have you ever been in love before?”

 

\--

 

As the group travelled for the rest of the day, Louis felt as though he were in some sort of thought-induced trance. He paid no mind to anyone else, not even Josh when he attempted to instigate conversation, and especially not Zayn when he kept coming closer to not so subtly check in on him.

_‘Have you ever been in love before?’_

Liam’s words echoed in his mind as though he were right beside him whispering them in his ear. Louis had been baffled the second that he had heard them spoken. There was no way that he could be in love, he was simply enjoying spending time around Zayn. Then he realized, he actually might be in love. All of that shameless flirting from both sides, spending time embarrassing himself in front of the man for his attention. His stomach had dropped.

_‘What do I do?'_

Apparently there was nothing he could do. Josh’s only suggestion was that he let it run its due course, see what would happen. Niall seemed to be of the opinion that Zayn felt the same way about Louis and that he should just go up and express his undying affection for the Commander. Liam, ever the rational one, seemed to think that he ought to just talk to Zayn about it.

 _‘As if’,_ Louis thought, rolling his eyes in his mind. It seemed that every other time he and Zayn tried to have a discussion, one of them ended up being severely hurt or upset by the other’s comments. The only way anything would work between them was if neither of them spoke for the rest of their lives.

_‘And besides, he’s going to drop you off with the king of Urthain and then ride off into the sunset and forget all about you.’_

That thought hurt, but he knew that it was the truth. At the end of the day, Louis was nothing more than a mission for Zayn, and one that would be ending very soon. Within a couple of days, he would be the slave to a king once more and Zayn would be done with him for good.

_‘He doesn’t want you, not really. He sees you as an object to own and control, just like everyone else does.’_

Louis wanted to argue with that, but he couldn’t. Not really. He’s spent almost his entire life being owned by someone else. Of the 325 years that he’d been alive, he had been under another’s control for 318 of them. It pained him, to think of the centuries that had gone by of him being imprisoned. The years of near torture, of being used.

He couldn’t let Zayn use him like that. Couldn’t let him bring him back to the king of Urthain. He still had time to convince Zayn to help him escape. But the very thought was too much for his heart. If he truly loved Zayn, as he was beginning to fear that he did, it would be impossible to do such a thing. It would put the man he loved into harm’s way, and he could not allow that to happen. Not when it was within his control.

_‘So what are you going to do, then?’_

A tear slipped unchecked from Louis’ eye because he knew exactly what he would do, but he couldn’t bear it.

“Louis, are you okay?”

He blinked out of his stupor to see Zayn riding beside them, a look of concern furrowing his brow. Louis noticed that others around them were watching as well so he did his best to force a smile.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Alright.” Zayn didn’t really seem to believe him, but let it go, riding back up to the front of their caravan to continue leading the group.

Louis watched the man go, heart in his stomach. He almost wished the man had said something, called him out, just so that he would stick around longer. If they only had a couple days left together, he wanted to spend as much of it together as possible.

“It’ll be alright, Louis.” Josh said loud enough for just Louis to hear him. “You’ll see. Everything will work out the way that it’s supposed to.”

“You can’t possibly know that,” Louis whispered into the back of Josh’s shirt, gripping it tighter between his clenched fists.

“No one can,” came the reply, “not even you. But I’m certain that he cares deeply for you, just as you do him. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone before. You just have to have a little faith, Louis.”

Louis despised that word, _faith_. It had never done him any good. When he was young, he’d had faith that God would help him to escape from the man that had taken him hostage. He’d had faith that he would see his family again, be reunited with them and watch as they aged gracefully, and then assure them that everything would be okay when they died, because he had faith that God would take good care of them.

That faith had brought him nothing but grief, when decades went by with no hope for escape. When seventy years had gone by and he cried for days, knowing that there was no way that his parents were still alive, knowing that there was no one in the world that still loved him.

Faith was a lie, and Louis could be the first to attest to that.

“You can keep your faith,” Louis said darkly. “I’ve no need for it.”

Josh didn’t say another word after that, and they rode in silence for the rest of the day. Louis let his mind wander back to where it had been before.

_‘So what are you going to do, Louis?’_

“I’m going to let him go,” he whispered, letting the words drift off into the desert heat.

 

\--

 

That night, as they sat around the dinner campfires, they listened to yet another tale from Zayn. Louis stayed quiet this time, allowing the man to relish in the glory that his stories gave him, and the gore that made it far more fascinating to the others. He had a hard time understanding why these men would enjoy listening to stories about battles, when they would often fight battles themselves. Louis didn’t allow himself to think on it too hard, instead just deciding that soldiers were a strange breed of human and leaving it at that.

Louis spent more time around the fire that night than he normally would, joining in to the raucous singing when Niall brought out a guitar and began to play bawdy songs for them. He let them teach him children’s lullabies and nursery rhymes put to music, and laughed along with them when he would mess up. They did this until the fire was burned down to nothing, then he finally made his way to Zayn’s tent, where the Commander had retired hours earlier.

He was surprised to find the man still awake when he swung open the entrance to the tent. Zayn was sitting in his bed, feet firmly planted on the ground, and watching him carefully. He was shirtless, which only accentuated the chain that dangled from around his neck and carried the key that kept Louis from being free. Louis tried not to make eye contact as he began to get ready to sleep, making himself somewhat comfortable on the dirt floor.

“Louis.”

“Hmm?”

“Get up.”

Louis stood back up, finally making eye contact with Zayn. His eyes were dark, but not like they would get when he was angry. He had never seen this emotion in Zayn before. “What do you need?”

“I’m taking care of something I should have done a while ago.” He grabbed the key that dangled from the chain around his neck, breaking the necklace as he yanked it off. Zayn reached for Louis’ wrists, which he gave him willingly. Louis noticed how tenderly Zayn held him as he unlocked the shackles from his wrists.

He wasn’t quite prepared for what would happen when they did come off, and it struck him hard. The voices of the ones that he had killed in the canyon days ago descended on him all at once, crying and screaming in fear. His power, his magic, seared through his veins once more, practically forcing its way out of his hands and feet in its need to escape the vessel it had been trapped in. Louis collapsed to the floor, promptly passing out.

When he came to, the first thing that Louis noticed was that the voices were still there, albeit far quieter than they had been before. He’d hoped that, with distance from the place where their deaths had happened, the voices would eventually fade away. He had been wrong in that aspect. He did notice one voice in particular that was not dead, and he focused onto it with all his mental strength as it brought him back to the present.

He opened his eyes to see that Zayn was holding him in his lap, presumably having caught him before he could hit the ground. Concerned eyes met his own, and Louis couldn’t even attempt to stop the small smile that made its way across his face. “Thanks.” His voice was raspier than he expected it to be, and he blinked in surprise.

“You were screaming before you passed out,” Zayn answered without having to be asked. “Then you just kind of dropped. I got to you before you could hurt yourself.”

“Thanks, again,” Louis whispered, being more careful with his damaged vocal chords. “Can you help me sit up?”

“Of course.”

Louis’ head pounded a bit as he finally was sat up again, but he ignored it in favor of paying attention to Zayn’s voice.

“What happened?”

Louis sighed, allowing his hands to cradle his sore head. “Remember how I told you I could feel all of the dead back at the canyon?” Zayn nodded, so he continued. “It all rushed back to me at once, they were screaming in my head and it was so much.” He took a shuddering breath. “And then my powers were trying to escape at the same time and I couldn’t really take it, so,” he let his voice kind of drift off into silence.

He didn’t realize that he was shaking until a blanket was being wrapped around his shoulders. Louis gripped the edges and wrapped it tighter around himself until his teeth stopped chattering. He murmured a small thanks to Zayn, who merely nodded and allowed him some space. It was some time before either of them spoke again.

“Are you feeling any better now?”

“A bit,” Louis answered, quiet as he stared deeply at the floor, far too ashamed to let himself look at the Commander. “It’ll take a bit to get used to it, but I’ll be alright soon.” He was lying to a degree, and he was certain that Zayn knew it too, though he didn’t say a word. The voices would only dim to whispers in his ear and screams in his dreams at night, but they would never leave him. He would never truly be okay.

“I think you should sleep in bed with me,” Louis’ head jerked up to look at Zayn, who just shrugged as his face turned a bit red. “Just in case anything happens, then I’ll be able to help."

Louis could feel his own face turn a shade of pink as he agreed. His heart fluttered a little and he couldn’t really stop the small smile that graced his face. He chose to hide it into the blanket rather than let Zayn see. “Of course. Just in case.”

He let himself watch Zayn as the man got ready to go to bed. His eyes followed the way that he walked across the tent to wash his face and ripped chest in the basin of water in the corner, drying himself on a piece of cloth before climbing into the bed next to Louis. Louis went rigid, unsure of what exactly he should do.

When Zayn blew out the lamp providing them light, Louis took a deep breath and forced himself to lie down next to the man, taking up only enough space for himself on the edge of the bed. He stayed still for a long time, listening to Zayn’s breaths from behind him, waiting for him to fall asleep.

“Do you mind sharing that blanket?” Louis was startled when Zayn’s voice rang out in the darkness. “It’s the warmest one, and I’m quite cold.”

“Of course.” Louis’ voice was raspy when he answered, sitting up to untangle the blanket from around him. He tried to drape it across the both of them, but his stomach clenched a bit when he realized it was not large enough to cover them both when they were so far apart. He made himself inch closer until he had just enough of the blanket to cover himself and lay down again.

Without warning, a strong arm reached across his abdomen and pulled him farther into the middle of the bed. “Come closer, we can share body heat. I don’t bite.”

Louis’ heart was hammering in his chest, and he feared that Zayn could feel it, with the way his arm was still around him. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

Zayn laughed, his warm breath brushing against the back of Louis’ neck. “Go to sleep.”

Louis did, and it was the best sleep he’d had in his life.

 

\--

 

The next morning, Louis found it nearly impossible to wake up. He was surrounded by warm, strong arms and it was the best feeling in the world. If it was possible, he would have frozen that moment in time so he could live it for the rest of his long life.

Unfortunately, it didn’t last for long at all, as Zayn began to wake up beside him. The sudden change in his breathing clued Louis in, and he did his best to act naturally, closing his eyes and hoping Zayn wouldn’t notice he was awake. It didn’t work as well as he thought, as he heard Zayn chuckle deeply.

“Good morning.”

He gave in and opened his eyes, watching as Zayn began to pull away, unwrapping his warm strong body from where it had been snuggled up against Louis. The Guardian couldn’t help his sad groan as the warmth he had been surrounded by left in an instant. He blushed when he heard Zayn laugh again, warm eyes meeting his own.

“It’s time to get up,” he whispered, making Louis’ insides flutter for the thousandth time in the past couple of days. Zayn patted Louis’ blanketed leg for effect, getting out of bed to start the day.

“I don’t want to,” Louis said petulantly, snuggling even further into the warm blankets.

Louis watched shamelessly from his place in bed while Zayn splashed water on his face to wake up and dressed in his shirt and armor, pulling on his shoes last. Zayn looked back to the bed, rolling his eyes when he saw that Louis was in the exact same place where he had left him. He sat back down on the side of the bed, looking down at the Guardian.

“What do I have to do to get you up?”

Louis raised his two arms out towards the Commander, signalling him to pull him out of bed. But the moment Zayn reached out to help him Louis pulled on his arms, tugging him into the bed and subsequently, making him land right on top of him.

All laughter stopped as they stared into each other’s eyes intently. Louis could have sworn that even the thought of breathing left his body as he stared into those endless dark honey eyes. Those eyes gazed down at his lips, to his eyes, and back down to his lips before leaning in. Louis panicked, pushing the man off of him before it could go any further.

A loud thump and a gasp sounded as Zayn hit the ground, and Louis felt a pang of guilt. But he didn’t stop to help the man, rather running out of the tent without looking back. He walked straight to the edge of camp without stopping, and he could hear Zayn running after him, yelling his name.

“Louis, stop!”

A hand grabbed his arm, pulling him to a complete stop. Louis stared at the ground in front of him, chest heaving and eyes flooded with tears. He watched as two booted feet appeared directly in front of him, and a hand forced his chin up to meet the eyes of the man that he had wanted so badly to kiss not two minutes ago.

He saw Zayn’s gaze grow soft as he realized that Louis was truly upset. Louis’ shoulders shook as he finally allowed his emotions to wash over him, drowning in their waves. Warm hands grasped his shoulders, pulling him into a warm chest to cry on. They rubbed at his back, reassuring and grounding him at the same time.

“It’s alright, darling. It’s okay. Let it all out.” Louis let the comforting words wash over him, bringing some semblance of peace to his rocky mentality.

When his crying finally subsided, Louis just let himself be held. He couldn’t stop himself from wanting Zayn anymore, and it hurt so badly knowing that it would all be over the following day. After a while, he leaned back a bit and apologized.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Zayn reassured him, still rubbing a hand on his back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you into that. I thought we were on the same page after last night, but clearly we aren’t.”

“Same page? What do you mean by that?”

Zayn took a step back, making sure that he could see Louis’ reaction clearly. “I care about you, Louis. In a romantic way. And I thought that you might care about me too, but I can see that I was wrong.”

“No.” He watched as the Commander’s shoulders slumped a little before adding. “You’re not wrong. I do care about you. Romantically. At least, I think that I do.” Louis’ eyebrows furrowed a bit. “I don’t know much about love, but I know that you make me happy, and that my heart goes absolutely crazy when I’m around you.”

Zayn smiled, and Louis felt bad knowing that he was about to ruin his happiness with his next comment.

“But we can’t.”

“How do you mean?"

“We can’t be in love. Your mission requires that you bring me to your king tomorrow, and I won’t let you risk your life doing anything but that. So we can’t, that’s just the way that it has to be.”

Warm arms encompassed him for the third time that morning, and Louis’ heart ached. He tried to take it all in, so that he could remember this moment when he is trapped within the heart of a castle once more. He fought back tears. He didn’t want to cry anymore, not when he was with Zayn.

“We’ll figure this out,” Zayn whispered fiercely into his ear. “I’m going to find a way for both of us to leave. We can run far away and spend the rest of our lives together. I swear it.” He pressed a kiss firmly into the side of Louis’ head.

Louis nodded in acquiescence, but in his heart he wished he could believe that Zayn truly could pull it off.

 

\--

 

“Can I kiss you?”

The question came from Zayn as they cuddled in bed that night. Neither of them wanted to sleep, knowing what had to go down the next day. Louis looked up at the man from where he had been laying his head on his chest. Zayn’s eyes were earnest in his request, so he gave in easily.

“Yes.”

Louis tried to still the small tremors in his hands, taking a deep breath as Zayn leaned forward to join their lips together. The man’s chapped lips met his own and Louis felt as though lights were popping behind his eyelids. It was like nothing else he’d ever experienced in his lifetime. Their lips collided again and again in sweet harmony and Louis let a soft moan escape when they stopped for air. His eyes met Zayn’s, and they were dark, the pupil taking over most of the iris.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Zayn whispered, his voice raspy.

Before he could do anything in reply, Zayn had flipped him onto his back and laid his own lithe body on top of Louis’. Something in Louis’ lower stomach stirred and his breathing got heavier. Their lips joined once more, this time Zayn’s tongue making its way into Louis’ mouth, brushing against his own and the roof of his mouth.

It was too much and not enough at the same time. Louis wrapped his arms around Zayn’s shoulders to force him closer, scraping at his back with bitten nails. There was a tightness in his trousers that he ignored, his body moving of its own volition to thrust his hips up against Zayn’s own, and he whimpered. Louis had never felt this desperate and overwhelmed in his life, and he had no idea what to do about it.

He moaned again into Zayn’s mouth, hoping that the man could help him figure it out. He didn’t stop however, rather moving to Louis’ neck to kiss him there. It didn’t take long for him to find the spot that was making lights pop behind Louis’ eyes once more, and Louis fought to keep his thoughts straight through the lusty haze.

“Zayn, I-”

“What is it, love?” Zayn had finally stopped his ministrations, bringing his full attention to the Guardian beneath him.

“I- I don’t really know what I’m doing,” Louis replied, a blush rising on his cheeks as he fought to keep his eyes on Zayn’s. “I have, uh,” he swallowed, “very limited experience in this field, and none of it is particularly good.”

Zayn’s eyes softened, and he lifted a hand to brush against Louis’ cheek softly. “Oh, love. That’s alright.” He placed a gentle kiss on Louis’ lips. “We’ll work on that, together. And I promise I’ll make it as good for you as I can, alright?”

Louis nodded, too choked up to really allow words to come out of his mouth. He took a deep breath, letting the feeling drift away slowly. “Can we just stick with this tonight?”

“Of course,” Zayn murmured, “we’ll never do any more than what you’re comfortable with.”

Louis waited for him to start again, but when nothing happened he took initiative and leaned up to join their lips together. Zayn laughed, causing their teeth to clack against each other, but soon he was into it as well. Louis wanted nothing more than for this moment to last a million lifetimes. He felt loved and cared for, and above all else, he felt safe.

The thought caused tears to come to his eyes, dripping down his cheeks as Zayn continued to kiss him, oblivious to the conflicted thoughts in Louis’ head. He had never felt this safe in his life, not since he had been taken from home when he was young, and especially not when he had been in the arms of any other man. That safety would soon be gone, and he couldn’t bear the fact that he had gained it just to lose it again so quickly. And so, Louis cried.

When Zayn’s hands reached up to cup Louis’ face, he felt the tears wet his fingers and pulled away. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“Just hold me,” Louis choked out on a sob, not even trying to stop the tears from flowing now that they had started. “Please.”

Without a word, Zayn gathered him up into his warm, strong arms, turning onto his side to hold the smaller man close in the quiet night. Louis cried until he had no more tears to shed, and so he lay there silently on Zayn’s damp shirt, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not angry, just concerned.”

“I just-” he took a moment to figure out his words. “I’m scared. About tomorrow. I’m scared that you’ll leave me there and never come back.”

“I promise you, I will come back.” A fire lit in Zayn’s eyes, blazing brighter than anything Louis had ever seen. “I swear it. As soon as I have a plan I will get you out of there and we will run away. We can travel the world if you want, visit anyplace you want to go.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Louis snuggled closer into Zayn if that was even possible at that point. “I want to go to the edge of the world,” he said, smirking as he heard Zayn’s quiet chuckle, “and when we reach that, I want to go even farther. I want to discover new places with you."

A kiss was pressed to the side of his head. “We’ll do just that, then. Sleep now, for the sooner tomorrow gets here, the sooner we will be together again.”

Louis fell asleep to the thrumming heartbeat of the man that he loved, with a smile on his face.

 

\--

 

The next morning, Louis’ heart would not stop pounding in his chest as he helped get their things packed up and ready to go.  It continued as they started their ride to the capital of Urthain -- Vulcana if he had heard Zayn correctly. They stopped when they were on the outskirts of the city, and Zayn helped him down from Misneach, bringing him away from the others who were watching them curiously. They stopped beneath the shade of a lone tree a couple meters away.

“What’s going on?” Louis asked, watching Zayn like a hawk.

The man took a deep breath before pulling something from beneath his shirt. “I know that you don’t want to do this, and neither do I but we don’t have a choice.”

Louis’ heart was in his throat as he saw those shackles that he despised so much. Zayn was right, he didn’t want to do this. He would be happy never having to see those awful things ever again, but if Zayn said they had no choice, he would do it. Tears blurred his vision as he offered his wrists to the Commander, who clasped them onto him as loose as he possibly could without drawing suspicion before pulling him into a hug.

“I’m so sorry,” Zayn whispered into his ear.

“I know.” Louis wiped his eyes and they shared one more kiss before they made their way back to the group. Both of them mounted Misneach without a word, and the group continued forward.

The farther into the city that they got, the more people began to line the streets, cheering and staring at the men that were finally home. Louis saw women crying and waving at their husbands and lovers that had made their way back to them. He saw others that searched the crowd for their loved ones but would not find them.

His heart was beginning to hurt from all of the emotions he was experiencing, so Louis decided to just bury his head between Zayn’s shoulder blades and shut out the rest of the world until they arrived at the castle. It took less time than he wanted it to, each second carrying so much weight, as they were the last he would spend with the man he loved for an indefinite amount of time.

There wasn’t as much fanfare when they arrived at the castle as Louis had expected there to be. The remaining men were dismissed by Zayn to reunite with their families, while Josh remained behind. He was expected to come before the king along with Zayn, their captive in hand. The three of them made their way inside, following a servant who led them to the throne room where the king of Urthain was waiting for them.

Louis couldn’t focus on much within the castle, as they moved so quickly from room to room until they were in a giant hall being introduced to a man sat on a throne at the very front of the room. He could feel the eyes of every person in the room on him, knowing that he was different from the way that his eyes looked. One would think that he had come to terms with being strange, but Louis never had, so it irked him that everyone there just stared at him. He kept his eyes firmly on the ground at his feet, body stiff in fear.

The king congratulated Zayn and Josh on their hard work in capturing the Guardian and bringing him to the castle, and Louis fought back a scoff. It was not hard work on their part, rather Louis had helped to protect them on the trip back. If not for him, they would have all been dead in the Badlands with vultures pecking at their corpses. He didn’t say a word, but he had a feeling that the two men accompanying him knew this as well, so he was somewhat satisfied.

The others in the room went on and on about matters that Louis found he could not be arsed to care about, so his mind drifted off to other things. He raised his head a bit and peeked from under his dirty fringe at the others in the room, who were not paying as much attention to him as they had moments before, and were now open to being studied. Many courtesans were gathered in small groups around the room, in various states of fancy dress. None of them in particular piqued his interest, save one young man watching from a place fairly close to the throne. _Close family of the king then._

The boy had long brown hair that flowed in curls down to his shoulders and piercing green eyes. His clothes were a sign of obvious wealth, yet were not as opulent as others within the room. _Not competing for the king’s attentions, so they must already be close. A brother? No, too young. A nephew? Possibly._ Louis noted the distinct features that matched those of the monarch. _A son. Of course._

Something about the boy intrigued Louis, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. It was pure instinct, something deep within him as a Guardian that gave him this feeling, the very same that had guided him in how to use his powers as a younger man. He puzzled over it for a long time as he watched the young man.

He should have been paying better attention to the conversation going on about him, however, as Louis suddenly found himself being escorted out of the room by hands that were not nearly as gentle as the ones that he had gotten used to over the last couple of days. These hands meant to bruise and chafe his skin as he fought against them, aching for one more moment, one last glance at Zayn who was watching on helplessly. Louis knew that they had to bide their time, to make a plan, but it still hurt to watch his lover not do anything as they were separated.

Still, he was dragged out of the room against his will, the doors slamming shut behind him as he was led away to an unknown future.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick reminder, I own nothing but the plot. Pretty much all of the characters are based upon real-life people and are not my own. Please don't show this to the boys, whether in person or online.


End file.
